Memoirs of a Diva: The Year 2001
by MizHyde
Summary: While the dust begins to settle with the end of the Monday Night Wars, Rinoa Fielder finds herself testing new waters - a forbidden romance with the boss's son. With a coworker becoming more of a threat with each passing day, Rinoa learns that some things can't stay secret forever.
1. WrestleMania X-Seven

Chapter 1: WrestleMania X-Seven

* * *

 _WrestleMania_ week is unlike anything I've ever experienced, in all my years of being a professional wrestler.

For the past week, myself and the company I work for – the World Wrestling Federation – have set up shop in Houston, Texas, taking part in fan festivals and wall-to-wall media days, all to build anticipation for _WrestleMania X-Seven_ at the Reliant Astrodome. For the second time in the event's illustrious history, the show is being headlined by Stone Cold Steve Austin and The Rock, two future Hall of Fame contenders. Kurt Angle is facing Chris Benoit, and that match is threatening to steal the show from everyone. It's a little disappointing that I'm not wrestling, defending or challenging for a championship at _WrestleMania_ ; instead, I'm managing my best friend Chris Jericho in a match against the new Commissioner, William Regal, a sour British man who took over when Mick Foley was unceremoniously fired last month. As disappointed as I am, though, it's hard for the feeling to stick; being a part of _WrestleMania_ itself is an incredible experience. I spent my entire day yesterday signing autographs at the Axxess festival; my wrists still hurt.

I arrived at the stadium on _WrestleMania_ Sunday – April 1, 2001 – with a smile on my face and pep in my step. I dressed casually in blue jeans, a white button-down shirt and a tan blazer, with chunky chocolate heeled ankle boots. I stopped to interact with the crowd, with a few of the fans telling me that they were horrified that William Regal had me put through a table at the hands of the Dudley Boys three weeks ago. Some asked how I was feeling, and I promised them that I was okay. I didn't stay long; I still had to go in, find out where I was in the lineup, meet with Chris, and get ready. There were also some interviews I had to do for the local news stations. Chris wasn't lying when he told me that _WrestleMania_ week was the craziest week of the year for a WWF Superstar.

Walking through the bowels of the stadium, I stopped and greeted everyone with a smile and a handshake, dragging my burgundy suitcase behind me. The electricity in the air was infectious; amidst the chaos, there was this eerie sense of calm, like everyone had been through it before.

The match card was located by Gorilla, and I saw that Chris, William, and I were going to be opening the show. Some people would be upset by that, but I've always seen the opening slot as a chance to set the tone for the evening. Selfishly, it also gave me a chance to clean up right after and find a place to enjoy the show. With a nod, I turned away from the match card and continued down the concrete path, looking for the Divas locker room. I spotted Chyna getting her hair curled, dressed in a shimmering magenta outfit. She is challenging Ivory for the Women's Championship tonight. When she saw me, her eyes narrowed, but I still greeted her with a smile. She still doesn't like me, for reasons I'm not sure I comprehend. It's an open secret that she is on her way out the door; her current contract negotiations aren't going the way everyone had hoped. There's a bit more to it, thanks to the marriage between Stephanie and Chyna's ex-boyfriend Hunter, but there's also the fact that neither side can agree on the numbers. It's too bad; despite our differences, she's been a big deal for our division.

I turned a corner and walked down the hallway, scanning doors, looking for the words FEMALE TALENT. While my head was turned, a door opened behind me and I was grabbed by the crook of the arm and dragged backwards. "Hey -" I started, but my bag and I were pulled into the locker room. There was an initial swell of panic that it was Kurt Angle, but when I wheeled on him, I found myself pressed between the door and the body of my boyfriend, Shane McMahon. His mouth was on mine immediately, giving me an urgent kiss, as if it had been months since we'd seen each other, instead of a couple of days. It was a searing kiss that left my hands shaking. I fell into it immediately, and he took that as a cue to deepen the kiss, our tongues working in tandem. He pulled back and I sucked in a breath.

"Jesus, you scared me," I chastised.

"Sorry. I needed one for luck," he told me sheepishly, leaning in to kiss my forehead. I looked up at him, into his emotive brown eyes, and I gave him the most reassuring smile I could muster.

"Are you nervous?" I asked. He still had me pinned between the door and his body. He made no effort to move.

"A little. I mean, it's not every day I get to have a street fight with my _father_." Shane said the f-word as if it were the dirtiest word in the English language. I had to bite back a giggle at the tone of his voice. There wasn't anything really to laugh about here; this has been a situation brewing for months.

Late last year, Vince announced to the world that he was having an extramarital affair with my best friend, Trish Stratus. The resulting chaos caused Vince's long-suffering wife Linda to suffer a nervous breakdown. Instead of focusing on the health and well-being of his wife, Vince had Linda committed. For the past five months, he's kept her sedated, in a catatonic state. For the past few months, Shane has been seething and devastated. A couple months ago, he decided it was time to end his self-imposed on-camera exile and go after his father. For the past three months, I've been watching Vince say the worst things to his son, everything from never forgiving Linda for birthing him, to openly expressing joy at the idea of beating him "like I did when you were a child". It's been horrifying, but Shane has handled all of this with such strength. I'm in awe of him.

Two weeks ago, Shane proved that he's a more measured in doling out vengeance. He pulled the rug out from under his father, announcing to everyone that he had purchased WCW, my previous place of employment, from under Vince. The look on Vince's face had been priceless; he had been planning to sign the deal at _WrestleMania_. Shane had gone down to _Nitro_ in Orlando and made the announcement. I wished I was with him, but I was at _Raw._ Nobody believed that I didn't know about it, but I didn't.

"Your family is here tonight?" he asked. I nodded.

"They are, and they are dying to meet you." He cocked an eyebrow.

"Have you told them...?"

"No. I haven't told anyone. You never know who could slip up." He nodded.

After our kiss in the middle of Times Square on New Years, Shane and I found ourselves stuck having a really awkward conversation about where we stood. We both know it's going to be disastrous for me career-wise if Vince finds out, and the blow-back from the locker room could be even worse. The two of us went over every possible outcome and came to the decision to keep everything under wraps for now. I'm still in the phase where I think sneaking around is kind of hot, stealing kisses and embraces here and there. People are still suspicious about the two of us, so we try to be as careful as we can. We try not to be seen together too much back here.

"You're managing Chris tonight?" he asked. I nodded. "Are you nervous?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"You'll do fine out there."

"I really hate to cut this short, Shane, but I've got to go find Chris," I told him.

"Do I get another kiss before you leave?" he asked.

"Of course." I wrapped my arms around his neck and brought him down to meet my height, my mouth covering his. It was a long, deep kiss, and I had to pull back when I felt him stirring against my hip. He looked almost indignant.

"You call that a kiss?" he teased.

"I could always stop by your room later and give you a real one," I teased with a wink. He groaned.

"You're bad." He backed away from me so I could leave. I blew him a kiss on the way out, smiling when he caught it. I shut the door behind me and continued on my way to find the women's locker room. I got about six feet away from Shane's locker room when I heard an all-too-familiar voice calling after me.

"Rinoa! Rinoa, wait up!"

My shoulder slumped. At this point, it's almost an involuntary response. I turned to see the beaming face of Kurt Angle, already dressed in his singlet, his short brown hair already wet. My wishes for him to find a new girlfriend in the New Year apparently fell on deaf ears, because he's still after me. In the past few months, it feels like he's getting more aggressive. The fact that he always seems to be right behind me when I leave Shane has me paranoid that he's spying on me. At the very least, he's stalking me.

"Hello, Kurt," I greeted, my tone tight but cordial. "Good luck against Chris Benoit tonight."

"We're going to steal the show tonight, oh, it's true. It's _damn true_ ," he told me. I fought the urge to roll my eyes, but he's probably right. As much as I despise the man in front of me, I'd be an idiot if I completely dismissed him. He's one of the best wrestlers we have on the roster, a legitimate gold medallist in the 1996 Olympics, the only Olympic amateur wrestler to go pro.

He leaned against the wall. "I couldn't help but notice you leaving Shane's locker room again," he mentioned coolly, cocking his head back in the direction we both came from. I shrugged, not at all surprised to know that he was spying on me yet again.

"Just wishing him good luck tonight." It's starting to surprise me how easily the lies roll off my tongue now. I'm not sure how much I like that part of things. "He's had a rough couple of months, so I wanted to wish him good luck."

"Do I get a good luck kiss, too?" he asked. I visibly shuddered. "I bet he got one."

"You're such a pig," I blurted. He looked surprised, and so did I, I imagine. "I need to go and see Chris. Good luck. I think you're going to need it."

I turned on my heels to leave. He reached out to grab me, but he missed. Desperate to put as much distance between him and me, my strides down the hallway were brisk. Up ahead, a locker room door opened, and I was relieved to see Chris poke his head out. He spotted me and stood outside the locker room, glaring at Kurt. I gave up looking for the women's locker room and walked into Chris's space. He looked out at Kurt for a few seconds more before shutting the door behind us.

"Is that ass-clown still bothering you?" Chris asked.

"Yeah, but what else is new there?" I asked with a sigh.

"I don't like the way he looks at you, Noa," he confided.

"I don't, either, and he's getting weirder and weirder every time I see him, it feels like," I confessed. "Shane said he's flashing on some serious heavy weather ahead with that guy, and I don't want to believe that, but I can feel it."

"How is Shane tonight? I know you've seen him already."

I nodded. "He's nervous. Stressed. You know, all those great emotions that come with having a street fight with your father at _WrestleMania_." Chris nodded, but we both had no idea how that really felt.

"I heard a rumour tonight that Trish is bringing Linda here to use as a distraction."

"What? You're kidding." I felt so disgusted. "You're kidding me, right?"

"It's just what I've heard. I don't know if it's true. If I see anything, though, I'll keep you posted."

"Thanks. I'd love to give Shane the head's up." Vince has been so out of control the past few months, and it hasn't just ended with Shane. His treatment of my best friend has been even worse. He's made her strip down to her underwear and crawl in the middle of the ring barking like a dog. He's had Stephanie and Commissioner Regal assault her. I reached into my bag and started pulling out my clothing. Chris shot me a look. "What?"

He picked up the glittering silver shift dress. "You're wearing this out there?"

"What's wrong with it? It matches you."

"Yeah, but you call that a dress?"

"Oh, God, Chris. You're not my dad," I said with a laugh. I had a pair of black heels to complete the look.

"It's so short, though..."

"I'm going to get changed."

"You'll look beautiful in it, though. You always look beautiful," he told me. "It's why I hang out with you."

"Oh. Here I thought it was for my sparkling personality," I threw back over my shoulder as I walked into his shower area to change.

"I guess it's a little bit of that, too." I shook my head and rounded the corner so I could get changed. I moved quickly because I didn't know if Eddie and the guys were going to run in on us. When I came back out, I just had to put my heels on. Chris shook his head in disapproval. "I feel like I shouldn't let you wear that."

"Oh, it's fine."

"If you take a bump, everyone is gonna see your goods."

"You think I'm that crazy?" I lifted the skirt up to show I was wearing trunks underneath. "A lady is always prepared, Chris. Nobody is seeing the goods. Not with my parents in the front row."

"Good point."

"Come on. I'll take you to hair and makeup. I don't want Kurt grabbing onto you again." He picked up his Intercontinental Championship and I fastened it around his waist. He extended his arm to me. "Are you ready?"

"I was born ready," I told him. We linked arms and left together. It's his second _WrestleMania_ , his first coming in as a defending champion. It's my first _WrestleMania_ , and even though I'm not Women's Champion or competing, I'm still thankful that I get to spend my first one with my best friend.

* * *

William Regal was already standing in the ring, glowering at Chris as he walked onto the stage. He stood to the side and held his arm out, and I took that as a cue to walk onto the stage, returning Regal's angry expression with a glare of my own. Earlier in the afternoon, after my hair and makeup were done, I went and looked out at the empty stands, at the super long ramp. Now, hours later, filled with people, it feels so surreal and incredible. I've never seen so many people. I know that Mark – Undertaker – has to be looking forward to riding his motorcycle down the super long ramp later on in the night. It was almost like it was made for him.

The butterflies in my stomach fluttered wildly. I thought I was going to faint in front of 67,925 people. Chris, as if he could sense the stage fright, linked arms with me and together we walked down the ramp. The flash of the cameras was incredible; I could barely see three inches in front of me. At the bottom of the ramp, I gently unwrapped my arm from his.

"Go get him, Tiger," I told him with a grin. I looked over at William and scowled. Chris got on the rope and preened for the crowd before he got inside the ring. Taking my place at ringside, I brushed off the obscene comments I heard from a few guys behind me in the front row, keeping my focus on Chris and his title defence in the ring.

It's William's hope that he can take Chris down a peg. He hates Chris's "belligerent behaviour". I cringed the week that Chris decided to urinate in William's tea. I made a mental note to myself to never accept a drink from Chris ever again. Even though William has been terrible to me, a cost of my friendship with Chris, I still didn't wish that on him. He accused me of knowing; I had no idea. I couldn't convince him, though, and so I ended up going through a table.

The match came to an end when Chris hit his Lionsault on William, getting the three count and retaining his title. Chris rolled out of the ring right away, forcing the referee to run around the ring to hand him his belt. I was under Chris's arm, slapping his chest in jubilation while William seethed in the ring. I took Chris's arm and raised it high, the championship dangling from his other hand.

Once we got backstage, I couldn't keep the smile off my face. Tears brimmed in my eyes, but I managed to hold them back. Chris and I separated almost right away; he had to go do a photo shoot for the website. I wanted to go find Shane and let him know about the rumours regarding Trish and Linda. Walking through the backstage area, I spotted Bradshaw and Faarooq in their makeshift APA office, smoking cigars and drinking beer with Jacqueline. Later on in the night, the APA has a match against the male members of Right to Censor, also tag-teaming with former ECW Champion Tazz. Bradshaw was loudly ranting about the importance of the Astrodome and _WrestleMania_.

"This is _WrestleMania_!" he bellowed. "Hearts are gonna be broke. Legends are gonna be made. Egos will be shattered, and asses are going to be kicked. We got a match!" With a clean sweep, the beer, poker chips and playing cards on the table were swept off. I couldn't help but smile. The joy and electricity felt so contagious.

* * *

An hour and a half later, I learned that Chris's rumours had been true. Stephanie had gone down to the ring with her father, dressed in a black jumpsuit with Daddy's Little Girl emblazoned on the back in glitter, her thick, long brown hair crimped and wild. She slapped Shane, enraged that he would dare fight his father.

When Shane thought he had his father laid out on the commentator's table dead to rights, he went for his patented Leap of Faith elbow drop. Stephanie scouted it and pulled her father out of the way, leaving Shane out cold. I watched at the interview monitor, biting my lower lip and trying to keep myself composed. It was then that I saw Trish wheel Linda down to the ring.

Trish rushed to the aid of her boss/lover, trying her best to soothe him. Then, she surprised all of us by slapping him. I couldn't contain my excitement; it was long overdue. Stephanie took that as her cue to attack Trish, then attack special referee Mick Foley for intervening. Mick was going to dole out some sweet justice to Stephanie, but Trish took over, forcing Stephanie to flee on foot with Trish in hot pursuit.

Vince, realizing Linda was now at ringside, decided to shove her into the ring and force her to watch him beat Shane within an inch of his life. I felt sick to my stomach watching Vince handle Linda so roughly. When Mick tried to intervene, Vince assaulted Mick with a chair. Meanwhile, Shane was still stirring at ringside, still lying on the deconstructed table. Vince left the ring and dragged Shane back into the ring. I winced as Vince hit Shane with garbage cans. As if she could read my thoughts, Lita leaned over and put a hand on my shoulder.

As he went to hit Shane with his third garbage can, Lita and I audibly gasped as Linda stood up from her chair. The cameras went wild, the flashes creating almost a strobe light effect. Shane, on his knees and exhausted, pointed behind Vince. The garbage can still raised over his head, Vince turned to look into the bemused face of his long-suffering wife. Linda said something to her husband before pulling her foot back and kicking Vince in the testicles. With an assist from Mick and a Coast to Coast, Shane defeated his father. I openly cheered.

"I've gotta go," I told Lita. She understood. I grabbed a bag of ice on my way to Gorilla.

He came through the curtain, sweaty, exhausted, and victorious. His right eye was swollen from a well-placed punch from his father. Underneath his right arm was Linda. Mick was behind Shane, giving him a slap on the back and congratulating him on a job well done. Shane was too exhausted to be celebrating.

Shane hugged Linda closer to him. "Congratulations, Boy Wonder," I told him with a grin. "I noticed your eye is a little swollen, so I thought this might help you out."

"Thank you. You're always a step ahead," Shane told me, taking the ice pack from me. I saw the way Linda was looking between the two of us but said nothing. I turned my attention to Linda.

"Hello, Mrs. McMahon. It's great seeing you up and about. How are you feeling?"

"Better than I have the past few months," she told me. We walked downstairs into the backstage area. Shane was holding the ice pack to his face. Mick was gone. We walked towards Shane's locker room. "I'm proud of you, Shane."

"Thanks, Mom." We walked into the locker room. Linda sat down on the leather couch.

"Thank you for looking out for my son."

"Oh...I..."

"How long have you two been together?"

I looked at Shane, wide-eyed. Shane looked just as shocked. "Mom..."

"Come off it, you two. It's obvious. Your father has no idea, does he?" Linda asked. Shane nodded.

"Do we really have to go through this right now, Mom? You've been through a lot..." Shane reminded her.

"Oh, Shane, I'm fine. But if you two are together, I want to know some things."

"Can you advertise that any louder, Mom? We're trying to keep it under wraps right now."

"How long have you two been...?"

"Three months," Shane answered. She looked sceptical, but she accepted it.

"Whose idea was this to keep it a secret?"

"It was both of us," Shane told her. "We both know Dad is going to be pissed, and we know he's suspicious. But Noa's worked hard to get here, and I don't want to see her career tainted for this. So we are just going to keep it on the low for now. We're just seeing where it goes."

"Shane..."

"We know the risks," I told her.

"Who else knows?" Linda asked.

"Just you. I haven't even told Chris, and he's my best friend. I tell him everything."

"Can we please keep it quiet for now?" Shane pleaded.

"Of course. You two just be careful." We nodded.

"It's why we're keeping it quiet."

"Good." She stood. "I have to go speak with your father, Shane. I'll see you later." He nodded, and I moved to the side so she could leave the room. When she was gone, I moved to Shane, moving the ice pack from his face and gingerly running my finger along the red lump.

"Jesus, he got you good," I commented. He caught my hand with his free hand and kissed my fingers. "Great job out there. I knew you were going to get it done tonight."

"I gotta ask you about that dress..."

"Don't tell me it's too short. I had to hear it all from Chris."

"No. I like it. Is it new? You should wear it more often." I laughed.

"It is new. I think if I wear it again, though, Chris is going to have me fitted with a chastity belt." Shane laughed.

"That's too bad." He leaned in and gave me a quick kiss.

"Are you ready to meet my parents? No pressure," I cracked.

"I am. But I'm nervous."

"They'll like you."

"And if they don't?"

"They will. Relax." I pulled away from him. "I need to go get cleaned up and changed. I'll see you after the show."

"I'll see you then." With another quick kiss, I left him to catch his breath. The fact that Linda knows about the two of us has me a little worried, but with every passing day, I find myself ready to handle the consequences.


	2. Uninvited

Chapter 2: Uninvited

* * *

I took a few extra minutes in the shower, enjoying the feeling of hot water on my skin and the smell of my mint shampoo and conditioner. I stretched under the water, moving my head from side to side to work out the kinks that came with years of wear and tear. When I was finished, I changed into a little black dress that was sleek and came down to my knees, with a sweetheart neckline and off the shoulder sleeves. I dried my hair and brushed it straight around my face. The makeup I chose was soft and neutral, a stark contrast from the glittering silver shadow and pink lip I had on earlier in the night. I finished off my look with a black gemstone necklace and black heels. While I was putting the finishing touches on my makeup, the door to the Divas locker room opened and Trish walked in, still wearing her _WrestleMania_ gear with the rhinestone platform heeled boots. I was surprised to see her; it was the first time she had been inside the Divas locker room in months. We were quiet for a few moments. She broke the silence.

"Hey," she greeted. Trish seemed so nervous; I noticed the way her eyes darted around the locker room.

"Get over here and give me a hug," I commanded, rushing towards her and wrapping my arms around her. The hug was tight; hers was tighter. "Jesus, Trish, I'm so glad you got yourself out of that situation."

"Me, too."

"I'm so sorry, Trish. I wish I..."

"It's okay," she assured me. "It's not your fault. I can't rely on people to get me out of things all the time." She sighed; we both knew that her war with Vince and Stephanie McMahon was far from over. Pulling away from me, holding me by the shoulders, she examined me from head to toe and cocked an eyebrow. "Now, answer me this: just where are you headed off to, looking so pretty?"

"I got a dinner date with my parents after the show tonight. They're sitting in the front row."

"Is there a certain street fighter joining you tonight?" she asked.

"It's not Ken or Ryu," I cracked. Trish laughed.

"So, he's meeting your parents tonight, is he?" I shook my head.

"I am so not doing this tonight."

"Got some victory plans in his hotel room?" she teased. I rolled my eyes.

"Just because we're inseparable does _not_ mean we're sleeping together," I reminded her. It was technically true; we've been seeing each other for a few months, but it feels like both of us are afraid to take that step. It seems strange and almost unbelievable, but right now the two of us are content just doing the forbidden high school fling thing we've got going on. "Anyway, I've gotta go. I'm watching the rest of the show with Chris. I'll see you later. Stay safe."

"You, too." With a nod, I left the locker room.

* * *

I spotted Mom instantly backstage. We waved to each other, and I approached quickly, giving both my parents a hug. Mom and Dad were both wearing Chris's T-shirt. "Hey!" I greeted happily. "Welcome to _WrestleMania_." They followed me down the hallway, and I introduced them to everyone I saw. Eddie joked around with my dad a little bit, while Dean and my mother exchanged pleasantries. I introduced them to Mark and Kane – both of them left my father intimidated and awestruck. My dad instantly clicked with Bradshaw, especially when I told Dad that Bradshaw had spent some time playing for the Oakland Raiders. Bradshaw offered my father a cigar, which he took, but my dad had to turn down the beer. Bradshaw made him promise they'd hit a bar next time they were in town to see me wrestle.

"Your old man's all right," Bradshaw told me with a laugh, patting me roughly on the back. With that, he took off to celebrate his _WrestleMania_ victory with Faarooq. Dad looked over at me.

"He's a very colourful fellow, isn't he?"

"You don't know the half of it," I told him. "Come on; I'll introduce you to a few more people before we go."

"Rinoa! Hey, Rinoa, are these your parents?"

My shoulders slumped, and I know my parents noticed. Turning, I saw Kurt approach, cleaned up from his match against Chris Benoit, changed into blue jeans and a white button-down shirt, his brown hair still wet from his post-match shower. He had emerged victorious, but Chris had still forced him to tap out backstage in a post-match interview.

Coming to a stop in front of us, Kurt put his hands on his hips, his expression indignant. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your parents, Rinoa?"

I felt Dad's hand on the crook of my arm, a protective touch. None of us wanted to make a scene, but there was something in Kurt's eyes that put all of us in a state of discomfort. "Kurt, this is my mother Catherine and my father Peter. Mom, Dad, this is Kurt Angle."

"Well, well, I see where Rinoa got her good looks from," Kurt said to my mother. She looked like she wanted to burn her hand off where his lips touched. He shook my dad's hand.

"We can't really stop and talk, Kurt. I'm just taking them around to meet people, and then we have to go."

"Well, I'll come with you guys. Just call me the Welcome Wagon," he said with a grin. His tone was so assertive my dad cocked an eyebrow. Kurt caught us all by surprise by glaring at my father, the kind of look that dared my dad to make a scene. We walked together, my dad making sure to stay between Kurt and me.

"You're as beautiful as your mother, Rinoa."

"Thank you," I said tersely.

"You really don't have to come with us, Kurt. Rinoa was just taking us to meet her friend Shane," Dad told him. Kurt looked at me, and there was this bitterness and disgust in his eyes that made my nerves vibrate. "Come on, Noa. Kurt, it was nice to meet you." This time my father was being assertive, shooting Kurt a glare that dared him to make a scene.

We walked away from Kurt. When we were out of earshot, Dad leaned over to me. "I see what you mean, Noa. He's just a punk kid, but watch yourself. I don't like the way he looks at you."

* * *

I knocked on the door to Shane's locker room and waited for him to give permission for us to enter. When I heard him through the door, I walked in with my parents, not at all surprised to see Shane changed and showered, dressed in black slacks and a crimson button-down shirt. "Hey, Noa," he greeted with a smile.

"Hey, Boy Wonder. This is my mom Catherine, and my father Peter. Mom, Dad, this is Shane McMahon."

"Hey, there. It's nice to meet you guys," Shane said. If he was nervous, I didn't see it at all on his face. He shook both of their hands. My dad looked momentarily taken aback by the strength of Shane's grip.

"Likewise, Shane. We've heard so much about you," Mom told him. I blushed when he looked at me, an eyebrow arched. I knew that I was going to hear about that later on.

"All good things, I hope," he said with a smile.

"Of course," I promised, crossing my heart with my finger.

"If you didn't have any ideas about where to go, Noa, I know just the place in the area," Shane pitched.

"I'm good with it," I told him. Mom and Dad nodded. He grabbed his bag. I already arranged for Chris to hold onto my things until morning. "We'll take the WCW1 limo." We left together, and I was surprised to hear my dad compliment Shane on his match. The swelling had gone down a little, but it was still obvious he had taken a good shot to the face.

* * *

The restaurant was a clean and casual place that was almost empty when we walked in. The hostess recognized us right away and asked for an autograph. We obliged, and then we were seated at a table at the back of the restaurant. Mom and Dad sat across from Shane and me, and he was so close to me that I wished I could touch him and be open with things.

"That was a hell of a leap tonight, Shane. I'm impressed," Dad commented.

"Man, I thought I slipped a little on that rope. That would have been the worst _WrestleMania_ moment _ever_ ," he said with a laugh. "Dad would have been laughing at me on the other side of the ring."

"I didn't think you were going to get up after you went through the table," Mom confessed. I opened my mouth to speak, but an all-too-familiar voice cut me off.

"Oh, wow! Same place, same time. Would you look at this? What a co-inky-dink!"

I looked up from the menu and rolled my eyes at Kurt standing between Mom and me at our table. His hands were jammed into the front pocket of his jeans. His smile was wide, but there was something sneaky in his eyes. I wondered if he had followed us here. "I'm sure it was a real coincidence," Dad drawled. Shane nodded in agreement, never bringing his eyes up from the menu. Before we could dismiss him, he pulled up a chair and sat between my mother and me.

"That was quite a match tonight, Kurt," Shane commented. The waitress came by to see if we were ready to order our drinks. Kurt ordered a cranberry juice and a water. Shane ordered Kamikazes for all of us at the table, with the exception of Kurt. The waitress disappeared.

"I was afraid to blink. I thought I would miss something important," I added.

"I knew I could beat him," Kurt told us all proudly.

"He got the jump on you in the back though," Dad reminded him. I looked at my dad, stunned. "You tapped out awfully fast when he locked it in."

"That didn't happen." Kurt's words were firm. There was almost a darkness that came over him.

"We all saw it," Dad told him nonchalantly, staring down at his menu.

"If it wasn't an official match, with an official referee, then it never officially happened," Kurt told my father through clenched teeth. All of us at the table were uncomfortable with how intense he was being. He had seemed so bright and cheerful at the arena, but now my parents were seeing firsthand what I've been dealing with. Mom moved a little closer to Dad. I wished I could lean into Shane, but the name of the game was keeping things on the down-low.

"Well, this just turned into _Cape Fear_ ," I muttered. Shane shot me a look as the waitress arrived with our drinks. We ordered our food, and Dad began asking Shane about what goes into _WrestleMania_ week. The whole time they spoke, I felt Kurt's hand on my leg, travelling upward. I shot him an angry look, but he didn't take the hint. I shifted, moving closer to Shane. That surprised him but it seemed to make Kurt angry. I could tell by the way his eyes narrowed, by the way his lips pursed into a narrow line as he studied us thoughtfully. Stuck between him and Shane, I wished there was a way to just make Kurt Angle disappear.

* * *

"What in the fuck was that?" Shane asked. We just dropped my parents off at their hotel, and now the two of us were heading back to the hotel tonight. Kurt volunteered to bring me back to my hotel at the end of the night, and let it slip that he knew where I was staying. As a result of that, Shane decided he didn't want me going back to my hotel room at all. "I'm sorry, Noa. I don't want you to think that I'm mad at you or anything, but it's just...I don't like how hands-on he was with you tonight. That really bothered me."

"You think I liked having his hands on me? I want to amputate every limb he got a hold of." Shane bit back a laugh. I sighed, looking out the window. "I know he saw me looking at him like, 'dude, what are you doing?', but he didn't care." I shook my head. "I don't know what I'm going to do about him, Shane. I've been blunt, I've been passive-aggressive, I've been passive _and_ aggressive, but he's just not getting the picture."

He draped his arm over my shoulders and pulled me close. "Don't worry about him, Noa. We'll figure something out, okay?" I nodded. I wasn't sure how he was going to do that, but I wanted to believe him. He leaned close. "I've been wanting to tell you this all night, but that dress looks unbelievable on you."

"I wanted to tell you that red suits you." I let my head rest on his shoulder.

"Your parents seem great. Apple didn't fall far from the tree, I see," he told me. I smiled.

"They like you. I can tell. They didn't like Kurt."

"I had a good talk with your dad when he stepped out earlier," Shane confessed. I looked at him, into his brown eyes, and I knew that he wasn't going to tell me what they discussed. I didn't bother asking, but I knew they had formed some kind of bond; I could tell by the way they exchanged glances at the table, the way that they put the pressure on Kurt. Shane was really irate watching me squirm tonight, watching me try everything short of making a scene to get his hands off me. It was awful.


	3. A New Ally

Chapter 3: A New Ally

* * *

It took me a second after I opened my eyes to realize that I wasn't in my hotel room, and it took a few moments more to realize that I was underneath the arm of a sleeping Shane McMahon. The room was still dark, and I knew it had to be before dawn. My arm was draped across his stomach, rising and falling with each slow and even breath he took. He was fast asleep, so I took a few moments to study him in the darkness, taking in every detail I could see. Despite being through hell the night before in his street fight, he looked so peaceful.

I didn't have to say anything; Shane knew that Kurt's appearance at the restaurant and his behaviour the night before left me rattled. When we made it back to the hotel room, we had a couple vodka shots and then curled up in bed with _Tales From the Crypt_ reruns on HBO. I fell asleep first, I think. The last thing I remember was laying against his chest, thinking to myself that there's nowhere else I'd rather be.

Turning my head, I placed a soft kiss on his chest. His arm around my shoulder pulled me closer to him. He yawned, and a few seconds later, his eyes opened. "Good morning," he greeted with another yawn. His hand ruffled through my hair. The smile on his face was infectious. "I know we have to do stuff, but I don't want to move."

"Don't, then. We still have a couple hours before the sun comes up. Besides, I kind of like this." There was a pause between us. "Did we ever come up with a plan to explain why I'm here so early if someone just shows up?"

"Meeting at dawn," Shane said with a yawn.

"What on Earth would we be meeting about?"

"I don't know – you're the smart one," he told me. He stretched. "We'll just say you got so loaded after _Mania_ that I let you crash here. You were too drunk to drive."

"That could work, I guess." I sat up. I was wearing his _WrestleMania_ jersey, buttoned from the third one down, with baby blue shorts underneath. I stretched. "Should I make some coffee?"

"Coffee would be great," Shane said. I went to pull back the covers and get out of bed, but I was surprised when Shane moved, clasping his hands around my waist and pulling me back onto the bed. I yelped in surprise as I hit the mattress. I was underneath him, laughing.

"What the...?" I giggled.

"Just wanted an extra minute or two with you before you start _functioning_." I laughed, but it was cut off with his mouth covering mine. Any fight I had went out of me immediately, my hands cupping his face as I returned the kiss back with equal passion. Our tongues found a steady rhythm with each other, his hand pushing the jersey up past my hips while his mouth began exploring my neck. I shut my eyes and allowed myself to enjoy the moment. My hands moved from around his neck to his hair, running my fingers through it.

We were startled out of our intimacy when we heard knocking on the door. I froze, my eyes narrowing. "Ignore it," Shane groaned, placing more open-mouthed kisses on my neck. I moaned. The knocking continued. "I should probably get that."

"I should probably get back into my dress," I said with a sigh. I moved from underneath him and rushed to grab my dress, making a beeline for the bathroom. Pulling on a black muscle shirt, he walked to the door and looked through the peephole.

"It's okay, Noa. It's just Mom."

"Your mom? Does she know what time it is?" I asked quietly. Shane snorted.

"Rule number two, Rinoa – a McMahon Never Sleeps." He opened the door while I quickly changed back into my dress from the night before. Shane opened the door, and we were both greeted by Linda on the other side, dressed in a crimson pantsuit, her blonde hair already made up, her makeup already done. She looked between the two of us, unable to keep the surprise off her face.

"A little risky, don't you think, you two?" she asked.

"It's not what you think..." Shane started. I shot him a look, but Linda was already dismissing his excuse.

"I don't care. Just be careful of your father," Linda told him. She walked into the room and he shut the door behind her. "Good morning, Rinoa."

"Good morning, Mrs. McMahon. How are you feeling this morning?"

"Exhausted. I couldn't sleep at all last night, so I thought I would come for coffee with my son." I nodded.

"I should head back to the hotel," I told him.

"Noa..."

"It's fine. You two haven't had a lot of time together, with everything happening. I'll see you at the arena later, okay?" I told him. He nodded, knowing that he wasn't going to win the battle with me.

"I'll see you then. Be safe. Call me when you get back to the hotel." He made no move to kiss me goodbye, and I did the same. I knew the two of us were still nervous to be affectionate in front of his parents and mine. I let myself out. It wasn't until I reached the elevator that I released the breath I didn't know I had been holding.

* * *

I got off the elevator on the fourth floor and began making my way towards my room. Part of me was embarrassed that I let myself get caught up in spending the night with Shane; the two of us are begging to get caught, it seems like. I only ran into Dwayne in the lobby, because he's always up at the crack of dawn, but I could tell the wheels in his mind were turning; I know that he was fully aware that I had been wearing the black dress when I left the arena the night before. I greeted him warmly before I got on the elevator, and he did the same. If he thinks any differently of me because of the word going around the locker room, he's not showing it.

The smile on my face promptly faded when I found Kurt leaning against the door of my hotel room, dressed in blue jeans and a red shirt underneath a black blazer. I have no idea how he even figured out my room number. He grinned at me as we locked eyes. Every ounce of joy left my body with one long sigh, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Good morning, Rinoa."

"Good morning, Kurt," I said, stopping on the other side of the door. "We're out stalking Divas early this morning, are we?" My tone was openly mocking, but he didn't seem to take any offence to it.

He laughed, but it faded quickly. "I was starting to worry about you. You didn't come back to your room last night," he observed. He took in my appearance. "Where were you?"

"I stayed with a colleague." I didn't like that he had been paying so much attention. A low whistle escaped his lips.

"It's time to cut back on your drinking, is it?" he asked. "Whose bed did you end up in?"

"That's hardly a question..." I started, offended. I was cut off when I heard a loud Texas drawl behind me.

"Rinoa!"

I turned to see Mark making his way down the hall, a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand. He came to a stop behind me, his green eyes examining Kurt thoroughly. He looked over at me. "You left this in my room." I looked up at him gratefully as I took the bottle from him. "Did you want to catch a ride with me to the arena?" he asked.

"Actually..." Kurt started, but one dark look from Mark forced him into silence.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is your name Rinoa, Kurt?" he asked, his eyes burning a hole. Kurt shook his head. "Then keep your mouth closed and run along. Three's a crowd." Kurt shot a look between the two of us. His eyes narrowed, but he left. When he was out of our sight, I slid my key-card into the door and walked into my room.

"I thought that's what you were waiting for," he said with a chuckle.

"Thank you," I told him, turning and handing him his bottle of Jack. "I owe you big."

"Don't even worry about it. I got the head's up from Shane about five minutes ago."

"I see how it is," I said with a laugh.

"Probably for the best. I know what he's been doing with you," he said, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. His long hair was pulled back in a braid with a red bandana. He was already dressed in jeans and a jean shirt underneath a leather vest. His sunglasses were hooked to the open V in his shirt.

"How do you...?"

"I know all and see all. I thought you knew that," he said. I laughed. We fell silent for a moment as I grabbed my suitcase. "I'm not going to ask you where you were because obviously, I know."

"Thanks."

"You're not going to say anything about that, are you?"

"Not on your life." He chuckled while I pulled out the clothing I was going to wear for the day.

"Do you have a man waiting for you at home?" he asked. I shook my head. He whistled low. "That's too bad. A girl like you? I'm sure you'd make somebody really happy."

"I'd like to think I could," I confessed sheepishly. "Thanks."

We fell quiet again. Mark walked further into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. "So, Rinoa, I have to ask you – what do you think of this WCW shit Shane is pulling?" I looked over at him and grinned.

"I could ask you the same thing, Mean Mark Callous." He snorted.

"Fuck right off," he said. We shared a laugh. "I'm just asking because Shane is your friend and you were in WCW."

"If he wants to get some of the talents from WCW some TV time, I'm not going to argue. Some of those guys were my friends, and I've always thought a lot of them deserved better."

"Can I ask you what you were doing in Shane's hotel room last night?" he asked. I sighed.

"If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell _anyone_ , okay? Please?" Mark looked at me and nodded. I knew that he was a man of his word. "After the show last night, Shane took us all out for dinner."

"What...?"

"Please let me finish. At dinner, Kurt showed up out of the blue. He couldn't keep his hands to himself, he was patronizing, he was awful. After we dropped my parents off, Shane and I knew that Kurt was going to be waiting for me. That's why I stayed with him last night. Because I knew Kurt was going to set up a post outside of this room and was I wrong?" Mark shook his head.

"I hate to be that person, Rinoa, but it sounds like this situation is getting out of hand."

"It feels like it. At first, it was harmless and I could shake it off, but it feels like he's getting more aggressive every week. It's kind of terrifying. And Shane and Trish and everyone have been begging me to go talk to Vince about this, but I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because Kurt is a top draw, and I'm sure Vince is looking for an excuse to get rid of me."

"What? Rinoa, that's insane."

"I see the way Vince looks at me sometimes. I know that he knows about the rumours going around about Shane and I. And we tried to put the friendship on ice, but we like hanging out too much."

"I'll tell you what, Rinoa: if you are so adamant about leaving Vince out of this, then come to Kane or Shane or myself about this, okay? Don't try and deal with Kurt on your own. He looks like an idiot, but he's a dangerous idiot, and I know I don't need to tell you that." I nodded. "I mean it, Noa. Come to one of us. I, for one, wouldn't mind knocking the fucker off his block." I laughed.

"Thank you, but so far he hasn't tried anything really bad."

"Because he hasn't had a chance to be left alone with you." I sighed. "I'm not trying to scare you, Rinoa, but be careful. I've seen guys like him before. I've been that guy before. Guys can get crazy."

"I know. Thank you. I appreciate your concern. Really, I do."

"Okay." He stood. "I'm going to head down to the gym and work out a bit. I'll be back to pick you up at eight for breakfast, so get yourself cleaned up and changed. I'll see you in a bit." I nodded, and he let himself out of his room. Grabbing my things, I went into the bathroom to shower. There was a lot to unpack with the words Mark spoke.


	4. The Giant Killer

Chapter 4: The Giant Killer

* * *

 _Backlash_ 2001 took place at the Allstate Arena in Chicago, Illinois. The past month has been pretty uneventful for me, but an absolute nightmare for Shane. We all knew that Vince wasn't going to take his _WrestleMania_ loss lying down, but we never in a million years thought he would task Shane's friend Big Show to do his dirty work. It's all going to culminate tonight with a Last Man Standing match. On Monday Shane took it upon himself to read Show a reworked version of _Jack and the Beanstalk,_ effectively enraging the giant.

Arriving at the arena, I was relieved when I didn't find Kurt waiting for me in the parking lot. The past couple weeks have been crazy; he's magically been behind me in the rental car line, waiting for me in the parking lot, and he's even managed to figure out every hotel that I've been staying at.

Once again I'm not wrestling, but I've found myself at odds with Stephanie. Her issues with Trish seem dead and buried now. Between my friendship with her brother and with Chris Jericho, she's back to disliking me. Chris has a match against William Regal again tonight, in a "Duchess of Queensbury" rules match. I have no clue what that entails. Kurt and Benoit are having a _WrestleMania_ rematch as well, this time in an Ultimate Submission match. Stephanie is going to be at ringside with the Two Man Power Trip of Hunter and Steve; they are taking on the Brothers of Destruction.

Shane's been planning a full-scale invasion of the WWF with his WCW talents, and he's invited me a spot on his team. He tells me no pressure, but I know that I have to think carefully about what I do. The invasion will get ugly, there's no doubt about it, and I don't want to join in on anything that's bound to fail. I want to stand by him and support him and be his second in command, but I feel at home in the WWF. I don't want to become a turncoat.

As I walked down the hall, I heard the door beside me open, and I was pulled into a locker room. I only had time to drop my bags before Shane's mouth was on mine, kissing me with a passion I'd had yet to experience with him. The kiss knocked me breathless. If he didn't have his arms around my waist, I would have collapsed. I held on tightly to him. By the time he pulled back for air, we were both gasping as if we had run a marathon.

"You really need to warn me before you do that," I told him. "It gets me every time." Leaning over, he placed a kiss on the side of my neck. I shuddered against him.

"Sorry," he apologized, kissing below my earlobe. "I needed a kiss for good luck. I mean, I've got Big Show tonight, so I need all the good luck I can get."

"Please be careful out there, Shane. Promise me you'll be careful," I pleaded. He grinned.

"Well, I'll be as careful as I can be with a five hundred pound giant coming after me," he assured me. It did very little to put me at ease. Shane's expression became serious. "Have you seen him yet tonight?"

"No, thank God. I imagine he's very busy tonight with Benoit on the horizon." I shook my head. "I don't want to talk about him. Please don't let Big Show tear you apart tonight. I don't want to have to spend the night putting my boyfriend back together." Shane cocked an eyebrow.

"Spend the night? I think that sounds like a great plan." He kissed my forehead. "I've got to go. Would it make you feel any better if I told you I had a plan for tonight?"

"You always have a plan," I told him with a laugh.

"I think this could be a good one." He touched my face. "Come to my room tonight."

"We're going to get caught at this rate," I told him. I shook my head. "I love you, Shane. Please don't do anything stupid out there tonight."

Those three little words flew out of my mouth before I could take them back. Horrified, I left the locker room before he could say anything, making a beeline towards the Divas room. I didn't give him time to say it back or even process it. My cheeks and my neck burned with embarrassment. I'm sure it made me seem clingy, or I've put him in a position that he's not ready to be in. Every part of me feels the fear that I've overplayed my hand. It was always my intention to let him say it first, but I felt so much fear about his match, about what he was willing to do to walk away with a victory.

I wondered if it was too soon, four months into our relationship, to say such a thing. I wished love, sex and relationships came with an instruction manual so I knew how to navigate things. But I couldn't deny that it lifted a weight off my shoulders. I hoped he felt the same way, but I wasn't sure I could go to his hotel room after the show now. Every part of me just wanted to hide.

* * *

Leaning against the wall, I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at Shane lying on the trainer's table. He won the match, but I'm sure all the details were a little fuzzy. Like a lunatic, he had jumped off the set, onto the prone body of Big Show. He almost didn't make it to his feet by the count of ten, but a little help from Test saw to it that he did. It was Shane, Test, myself and the trainer in the room, the three of us waiting for Shane to regain consciousness. I felt relief when his eyes finally opened. Turning his head, he looked at me and smiled.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself. Shane Brandon McMahon, are you out of your ever-loving mind?" I asked, shaking my head, incredulous. "Out of all the crazy stupid things you could have done out there, you almost killed yourself! Do you have any idea what it was like watching you fall like that?" I asked. Test and the trainer were looking at me, but I ignored them.

"The fans enjoyed it," Shane murmured in his defence. I shook my head, exasperated.

"If they wanted you to jump off a bridge, would you do it?"

"You really don't want me to answer that." I shook my head, and the anger and fear disappeared; I couldn't stay angry at him if I tried. My heart had been in my throat through the entire match, but his leap had given me an instant panic attack. When he didn't move right away, I was terrified that he had died on camera.

Shane propped himself up on his elbows. Before I could say anything, the door swung open and Vince walked into the room. I sucked in a breath when his eyes fell on me, my spine straightening. "Ms. Fielder," he greeted. "Why shouldn't I be surprised that you're here."

"I won, Dad. I guess you'll have to head back to the drawing board in your quest to humiliate me," Shane spat bitterly. Vince chuckled darkly. I know Shane hates to admit it, but he's a lot like his father in a lot of ways. Both men are quite stubborn, and it rubbed off on Stephanie. I notice that Stephanie took on more of Vince's terrible traits. If I saw concern in Vince's eyes for the condition of his son, it was a flash that was gone in an instant.

"I'll teach you a lesson, Shane. Mark my words." Turning, he left, slamming the door behind him. I shook my head.

"He acts like an egotistical jerk, and somehow you're the one that needs to be taught a lesson," I mused, getting off the wall and moving towards the trainer's table. "Go figure."

The door burst open and this time it was Linda, dressed in a beige pantsuit. Test excused himself and left the room. "Shane Brandon McMahon, are you out of your mind?" Linda demanded. I had to bite back a laugh when I realized how much we sounded alike in the situation. "I thought you got this out of your system last summer, for crying out loud!"

"Mom..."

"Shane, I thought you were dead."

"Mom, I've got a huge headache. Could you keep your voice down?" I helped him sit up so he could give his mom a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I'm fine. I did what I had to do tonight, and I'm okay?" She looked into his eyes and nodded quickly before shaking her head in what I'm sure was disbelief.

"It scares the hell out of me, Shane. I'm sure it scares Rinoa, too." Shane smiled.

"Well, as flattered as I am to have two beautiful women worrying about me, I'm fine. I'm just sore, but that's nothing a night of relaxation, Tylenol and ice packs can't fix. I promise."

Linda turned to me. "Are you staying with him tonight, Rinoa?"

"I was going to go back with him for a bit."

"Good. Keep an eye on him. He looks concussed." I nodded.

"I can do that."

"Good. I'll see you two tomorrow at _Raw_. Get him out of here and get him rested." She kissed his forehead. "Take it easy tonight." Shane nodded and they traded goodbyes before she left. I helped him off the trainer's table, his arm over my shoulders. He winced when he put weight down on his left knee.

"Come on," I told him. "Let's get you back to the hotel, okay?"

"Okay." We took a few steps and he stopped. "Noa?"

"Yeah?"

He leaned down until his mouth was by my ear. "I love you, too," he said quietly. He pulled me into him. I flashed him the brightest smile I could muster before I led him out of the trainer's room. With a free pass to leave early, I wanted to see to it that I had one night where I got away with not seeing Kurt at all.


	5. Decisions, Decisions

**Chapter 5: Decisions, Decisions**

* * *

While Shane was off tending to some WCW business, I decided to sneak into his locker room in the very back of the Charlotte Coliseum in Charlotte, North Carolina, and wait for him to return. He's been asking me for days about what I think of his plan to invade the WWF with the roster of talent he just acquired, if I would be willing to stand beside him on the front lines of this invasion. Ever since I left him after _WrestleMania_ , I've been weighing the decision very carefully, outlining every pro and every con.

Mercifully, it's been a little bit easier for me to move around undetected right now; coming out of _WrestleMania_ , all the focus in the Women's division has been focused on Chyna and Lita, and Chyna has been keeping everybody on their toes. I read her book over the weekend and was pretty stunned to find out that she hates everyone, that I'm not in some kind of exclusive club. Diane Keaton got a shout-out for looking at her funny. I know that a few of the girls are also upset about Chyna's book, namely Trish. We read the introduction together, with Trish surprised that she had been insulted. There were no names dropped, but what other Diva on the roster wore big heeled boots and cowboy hats? I thought she made herself and all of us look bad. With every day that passes, though, it seems like she won't be coming into 2002 with us.

I looked around the room and tried to think about everything but the conversation I was about to have with Shane. This discussion could effectively bring the "honeymoon period" to a screeching halt. I sat back on the couch. It would be naive of Shane and me to think that we could keep things a secret forever, but the thought of Vince finding out still makes me nervous. While I'm grateful Linda's been so accepting of it, I'm shocked that she hasn't passed the information along to Vince. Every scenario I've thought of has Vince blowing a gasket.

With Shane taking forever, I decided to venture out and get a bottle of water. I wasn't six feet away from the door when I turned to find Kurt Angle following me, approaching me quickly. "Hey, Rinoa," he greeted. I thought about ignoring him, but I turned and crashed into the rock-hard chest of the Undertaker, dressed in his singlet and leather pants. One of his caps and sunglasses completed his look. "Jesus."

"Is there a problem here?" he asked quietly. I shook my head.

"Not yet, but this guy's like a gnat," I answered back just as quietly. Seeing that I was not by myself, Kurt walked past us, offering both of us a curt greeting. "I swear to God the guy sticks to me like glue."

"I've noticed," he told me. He looked over his shoulder at Kurt's retreating figure. "I've been noticing that he leaves you around when you're not alone."

"Yeah, it's too bad for me that I've been travelling alone lately," I said with a sigh. Mark's face darkened.

"Have you spoken to someone about hitting the road with them? I'm sure Shane would," he told me. I shot him a surprised look, but I wiped the expression off my face quickly.

"I would, but we live on different coasts. It wouldn't work." I sighed. "Besides, I don't want to be a bother. I'm sure I probably suffocate the poor guy." Mark laughed.

"Honestly, Rinoa, I don't think he minds at all. He seems to like hanging around with you." He looked over my shoulder. "I have to go – I have to go deal with that Power Trip bullshit that's reared its ugly head." I nodded; the Two Man Power Trip is the new tag team with Steve Austin and Hunter. Mark put a hand on my shoulder. "I'll catch you later. If anyone gives you grief, Rinoa, let me know about it, okay? I'll be more than happy to deal with it for you."

I was surprised by the offer, but grateful. "I will. Thank you."

"You're a sweet girl, Rinoa. I'd hate to see that change." I nodded, and he turned and walked away from me. When he was out of my sight, I moved quickly, not wanting Kurt to double back and find me. Turning the corner into catering, I crashed into Stephanie.

"Jesus Christ!" I shook my head and fought to catch my breath. "Sorry, Steph. I just seem to be crashing into everybody tonight." I looked her over. She was dressed in a black tube top, a navy mini skirt and stilettos. Her makeup was once again too heavy, her hair fanned out, crimped and wild. It wasn't a very good look on her.

"It's fine," she assured me. She examined me. "Are you okay? You look like you're going to faint."

"I'm okay," I promised her. "I've crashed into two people in a span of two minutes, so I'm just startled." We laughed. With her by my side, I walked over to the table and grabbed a bottle of water. "How are you doing tonight?"

"Just fine. I'm looking forward to the boys getting one over on the Brothers of Destruction." I could hear the distaste in her voice and see the anger in her eyes. It's no secret that Stephanie is still angry about the events with Hunter and Mark before _WrestleMania_. After Hunter destroyed Mark's motorcycle, they found themselves in trouble because Mark's penalty for touching his bikes is death. Stephanie went and got a restraining order on Mark; all Hunter had to do was stay close. Mark outfoxed them, however, by tasking Kane to take Stephanie hostage to get his _WrestleMania_ match with Hunter. I know Stephanie is still stinging, not just because Mark got the drop on her and Hunter, but because Kane was about to throw her off a balcony. Hunter accepted and lost because Mark is almost otherworldly when it comes to _WrestleMania_.

"Just keep yourself a safe distance back this time around," I advised her with a smile. Stephanie shook her head.

"Way ahead of you there." She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Anyway, I'll see you around. It's time for me to go get the guys ready." I nodded, and we said our goodbyes. I went back to the locker room.

Shane had returned while I was out. He was sitting on the couch with a bottle of iced tea in his hand. He looked up at me and grinned. I shut the door, and when I turned back he was pushing me against the door, his mouth on mine. He pulled back when we both needed air. "Hey, beautiful," he greeted, kissing my forehead.

"Hey. How was your meeting?"

"It was all right." He left me to sit back down on the couch. I leaned against the door, crossing my arms over my chest. He examined me thoroughly. "What's up?"

"I wanted to talk to you about this WCW invasion you're planning," I told him. I sighed. "I know you said you'd love it if I stood by your side on this, but...I can't. I just...I can't. Shane, if I do this and it fails...you're Shane McMahon. You're going to be fine. But I have to face everyone back here. It's going to be bad enough because I know people are going to expect me to join you, but I want to stay out of this if I can."

Shane nodded. "It's okay, Rinoa. I told you it's up to you. You have to do what's right for you." He stood again and approached, wrapping me in his arms. "You don't have to be so nervous; I promise you it's okay. I told you I wouldn't hold the decision against you." He pulled back. "Have you had any run-ins with Angle tonight? Is that why you're so nervous?"

"I almost did. Mark was there to intervene, though. Mark is one hell of a deterrent." He took my hand in his.

"You're right, Noa – people might look at you differently with all this. But Mark is a friend, and he's a professional. If you can't come to me about any problems you're having, go to him, okay? He'll help you."

"I know he will. He's a good man. But I'm sure things will be okay," I told him, putting as much optimism in my tone as I could. "I want you to be careful, too."

"I will be. I promise." I nodded. "What are you doing after the show tonight?"

"I'm probably just going to drive to the next town. Trish offered the extra bed in her room, but I think I just want to hit the road." He shot me a look, and I felt so scrutinized underneath his gaze.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He kept looking at me, and I became exasperated. "I'm fine, I promise. I've just...I'm having one of those nights where I'm crashing into everyone and everything. I just feel rattled, is all."

"Kurt hasn't tried anything, has he?"

"No." I was firm about that, so he would know I was telling the truth. Since the night where he tried pawing at me under the table at dinner with Shane and my parents, I've been doing everything in my power to not be left alone with him. "Tonight's just been weird, that's all."

"Maybe wait until tomorrow to make the next town, then. We can drive together. Come stay with me tonight."

"Shane..."

"What?"

"We're asking for trouble, you know," I said, shaking my head. I couldn't help but smile.

"That's half the fun." I should have known the adrenaline junkie daredevil would be into this kind of thing.


	6. The Fear

**Chapter 6: The Fear**

* * *

 _Raw_ was airing live from the Meadowlands Arena in East Rutherford, New Jersey. It was brisk and blue when I arrived at the arena in the early afternoon, dressed in a white floral sundress with an unzipped leather jacket, my hair back in a high ponytail. Readjusting my bag over my shoulder, I walked into the arena, greeting everyone I saw with a smile, a wave, a high-five or a handshake. My ponytail swung back and forth with every move; there was an undeniable pep in my step. Before I went to the Divas locker room, I stopped by the match card and saw I had a match just prior to the seven o'clock hour with Chyna.

I studied the match card in front of me for a few moments, looking at it as if I was sure some kind of mistake had been made. Ever since I signed my contract last year, I hadn't met her in the ring. Tonight was a first time thing, and I knew that she could really hurt me if she wanted to. She doesn't seem to like me, even though I don't think I've given her any reason to. We've never exchanged more than a dozen words with each other. Part of me wonders if her disdain comes from my friendship with Shane, but it's not a can of worms I want to open with her.

Shane's not backstage; he's back home in New York, going over every WCW talent contract in painstaking detail with his legal team. Selfishly, I wished he was backstage. With the way things are going, I'm pretty sure we won't get to see each other until _Judgment Day._

It always feels so strange when he's not backstage. I'm so used to being around him all the time that having him gone throws everything out of whack. But it was also going to be a night where nobody would be watching me with a very careful eye, which is always welcome. Turning to go to the locker room, I spotted Trish down the hallway with Nora. Neither of them were in their gear yet, both of them dressed in blue jeans and T-shirts. I moved towards them, but Kurt came out from around the corner, cutting me off. Over his shoulder, I saw Trish and Nora watching the both of us.

"Oh, hey, Rinoa. What a surprise!"

"That always seems to be the case, doesn't it?" I said dryly. He ignored my response.

"I saw you're up against Chyna tonight. Are you going to be okay?"

"I should be just fine." I wasn't about to tell him any thoughts or concerns I had about the match. In the past eight months, it's become my number one priority to keep Kurt Angle as far out of my personal life as I possibly could. I've turned him down directly, bluntly, passively, and it doesn't seem to matter what I do, he just won't take the hint.

"Have you seen Shane McMahon around?" he asked. "I wanted to talk to him."

"I don't think he's here," I told him with a shrug. I wondered what he wanted to talk to Shane about, or if it was an excuse, but I didn't want to ask any follow-up questions. I honestly didn't want him to think that I cared.

"You think? You don't know for sure?" he asked. His surprise seemed so put on that it came across as fake.

"I don't talk to him daily," I said with a shrug. It was a lie, and I'm sure he knew that, but I said it so pointedly that it left no room for further argument or prodding. The way Kurt's eyes lit up when I said Shane wasn't backstage made me feel queasy.

"I heard a rumour from Joanie that he's dating one of the Divas," he said loudly. I felt my heart jump and my body jolt, but Kurt didn't seem to notice my reaction. Trish and Nora were still watching the two of us.

"Isn't that something? I bet Vince flips his lid if it's true," I said dismissively. Every part of me wished the conversation with Kurt would come to an end, that he would vaporize and disappear.

As if she could read my mind, I saw Trish leave Nora, approaching us quick. "Hey, Noa – over here! Nora and I need you to settle a bet for us!" Trish gave me a subtle wink before Kurt turned to face her. Taking her place by my side, she draped her arm over my shoulders and pulled me away from him. "Gonna steal her from you, Kurt – she's been summoned." Kurt looked irate, but he said nothing as Trish walked me towards Nora.

"Jesus, I owe you one," I said under my breath. The three of us walked to the Divas locker room, Nora shutting the door behind us. She turned back to look at the door and shook her head.

"It's really something, the way he's latched onto you," Nora commented. I nodded.

"I know. I hate it," I said with a sigh. "When it's unnerving the Undertaker, that's when you know it's bad." I shook my head. "Shane's just about at the end of his rope with Kurt's behaviour."

"And how is Shane?" Trish asked. "I know you've spoken to him. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were the Diva Kurt was..."

"You don't know any better," I told her sharply. I'm sure neither of them believes me; the way they stare at me sometimes makes me believe that they don't believe a word I tell them. Every part of me hates lying to them; they're my friends, and I do owe them honesty. But I can't risk word of my relationship getting back to Vince. The best case scenario is he fires me and I get to be with Shane; worst case, I get suspended and have to break it off with him. There's no good outcome.

"Let's get you prepped for your match tonight," Trish said, letting the subject die. We looked at Nora, who was peeking out of the door. "Is that motherfucker watching us?" she asked.

"He is!" Nora breathed, closing the door quickly. There was a bolt of fear and disgust that shot up my spine. Everything seems so benign, yet so dangerous. While people are aware of the situation, I feel helpless, like nobody can help me. For now, I feel like I have to accept his infatuation and try to duck and dodge and dive to avoid him.

* * *

The match with Chyna was quick. She went out of her way to make it clear that she was superior to me in every single way. Up in the position for her Gorilla Press, she dropped me carelessly. I clipped her on the way down, and I sprained my wrist when I landed. She had no care about my well-being; she placed her foot over my throat while the referee counted to three. While she preened and posed for the fans, I rolled out of the ring and made a beeline backstage to get myself looked at.

Having read her book, I knew what she was trying to do; she wanted to prove a point to the new crop of women in the company, the ones that needed to "keep their heads down and just do their jobs". I know there is a complex that came with being attached to big names like Hunter and Shawn Michaels, but using it to be terrible to other people is unforgivable.

Brisco was waiting for me when I came through the curtain, his face a mask of concern. Even though I don't get to talk to him very much – being Vince's right hand is a full-time job and a half – he's always been nothing but wonderful to me. "Let me take a quick look at your wrist," he told me. I held it out for him and he poked and prodded. "The good news is nothing feels broken."

"It feels like a sprain," I told him. The curtain swung open and I turned to see Chyna walk through, her green shimmering gear reflecting off what little light there was in Gorilla. She looked at Brisco and me, her face a mask of bitterness, contempt, and disgust.

"I guess this is what happens when Shane's not here to kiss it better. He's a little old for you, don't you think?" she said, motioning to Gerry and I. I looked at her, disgusted and offended. Vince looked at me, and I wished the floor would open me up and swallow me whole. Pulling my wrist out of Gerry's hand, I turned to her.

"Why don't you go fuck yourself? I bet you'd be less miserable," I told her. Gerry hooted, but I was through the curtain and down the steps before she could respond. I don't normally talk so colourfully, but between the pain in my wrist, Chyna's utter arrogance and carelessness and her uncalled for remark about my personal life, I felt like I had to say something. I went to Dr. Rios and got myself a bag of ice, wincing when I put it to my wrist. The good news was I wasn't going to miss any ring time because of the injury. But it did very little to make me feel better.

* * *

"Hey. That looked like a rough landing," Trish observed when I walked back into the locker room. Jackie, Terri and Nora were there as well. I could hear the shower running. I sat down heavily, and I'm sure it was clear to everyone in the room that I was agitated.

"Yeah. It's just a sprain."

"What's up?" Trish asked. She pulled up a chair and sat down across from me. With a sigh, I told her about my run-in with Chyna backstage after the match. Trish laughed when I told her my response, but I felt ashamed for letting the woman get under my skin the way that she did.

"If she loses at _Judgment Day,_ Noa, I don't think we'll be seeing her around," Nora told me.

"You think so?"

"Yeah. I heard that what she's asking for is way too high. Vince isn't even going to meet her a quarter of the way on it," Terri told me. "She's been talking a lot back here about how _Playboy_ and Hollywood are calling her non-stop for roles and photo spreads." I snorted but didn't say anything else. Whatever I had to say about her at the moment was just coming from a place of bitterness over her attitude. I didn't want to stoop.

"Come on – let's go get something to eat. Just you and me," Trish said. "Besides, I got some news for you."

"Oh yeah?" I said, standing. Trish and I walked out of the Divas locker room.

"Yeah. We've been scheduled for an autograph signing together."

"You're kidding." Trish shook her head. "That's awesome. Where?"

"At the Virgin Mega Store. It's going to be the weekend of _Judgment Day_."

"That's great."

"So...I have to ask..." We came to a stop in the bowels of the arena, far away from catering. I looked at her, cocking an eyebrow, wondering just what kind of trick she was trying to pull.

"What?"

"Is he a good kisser?"

"Who?"

"Shane."

"Oh, Jesus. Trish, how many times do I have to tell you that there is nothing going on?" I asked, frustrated.

"Nora and I caught you two together a while ago. We saw you leaving his hotel room after _WrestleMania_." I looked at Trish, stunned. I wondered why she hadn't said anything before. "You're lucky nobody else caught you. Especially Kurt."

"Jesus. I told him it was asking for trouble..." Trish's brown eyes widened.

"So you admit it?" she blurted excitedly. I looked at her, my eyes narrowing.

"What do you...oh, my God! You are the _worst_!" I yelped, embarrassed that she had outsmarted me. "I hate you, Trish Stratus. I really, really hate you."

"No, you don't. You _love me_ ," Trish chirped. The grin on her face stretched so far that she looked like the Cheshire Cat. Crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned against the wall.

"Please don't say anything to anyone. Please," I begged. Trish shook her head.

"Your secret is safe with me. I just wanted you to be honest." Trish shrugged. "Besides, Vince and I aren't exactly on speaking terms right now, and for the record, I am enjoying every single solitary second of freedom that silence affords me. And as for Kurt? He doesn't notice any woman back here who isn't you now." I groaned at the thought. "How long has this been going on for?" she asked, her tone hushed.

"Trish..."

"Just fess up."

"Not here. The walls have ears," I told her quietly. Trish nodded.

"For the record, I'm happy for you." The two of us began making our way to catering. "Now, onto more pressing matters – do you ever intend to report Kurt Angle for the way he's been acting? Because I don't know how you feel, but it's creeping me the fuck out."

"Everyone's looking out for me, but I can't just go report him for cornering me at work," I said with a sigh. "Besides, there's a good shot that if I report him, I'll make it worse on myself." Trish took a few moments to think about her words carefully.

"Mark my words, Rinoa: if he wants to get you alone, he'll do that. Kurt's the kind of guy that will do whatever it takes to get whatever he wants."

"And what if I'm never alone?" I asked her. Trish snorted.

"Don't be ridiculous. He's an idiot, Rinoa, but he's a cold, calculating and dangerous idiot. I know because I managed him. He'll find any way he can to get what he wants."

I nodded. As much as I hate to admit it, Trish's words burrowed deep under my skin and released a capsule of fear that was impossible to contain. She's right, and there's a good chance things could get a lot worse before they get better. It feels like the entire situation is spinning out of control, but it feels like there's nothing I can do at the moment. It's just not feeling serious enough to bother anyone over.


	7. Stalked

Chapter 7: Stalked

* * *

Through hazy, sleep-filled eyes I watched Shane get ready for his morning meeting with Vince and Stephanie. It was two minutes past eight in the morning, and I know that hew as trying to sneak out quietly so I could sleep for a few extra minutes. I watched every move that he made, amazed at how gracefully he navigated the room, at how smoothly he slid on his pinstripe suit jacket and shoes. With a yawn, I opened my eyes and stretched, sitting up in the bed to let him know that I was awake. He turned to me, disappointment in his brown eyes. "Sorry, Noa. I thought I was being quiet."

"You were. I was up."

Last night had been a good night. I arrived in New York at sundown to find out that I had been given a complimentary upgrade at the hotel. It's a beautiful room with Merlot walls and burgundy bedding. The windows of my hotel room overlook Times Square, a place that's come to mean the world to me.

Shane showed up the night before, armed with a bottle of wine and a bouquet of red roses with baby's breath mixed through it. Even though he lives in New York, he stayed the night with me, the two of us curling up to watch _Batman Returns_. He fell asleep first; he was exhausted from his flight back from Houston, dragged to a meeting with his father about his football league, the XFL. Even in the midst of their infighting, it surprises me how close-knit they all remain.

I'd had a lot to tell Shane when he arrived, from my sprained wrist to my run-in with Chyna, to Trish finding out that we're together. If he wasn't happy about Trish finding out, I couldn't see it on his face or in his eyes. If he was worried that Trish would spill everything, I didn't see it.

"Have a great time at your autograph signing today. I'll see you later tonight." He approached the bed, resting a knee on top of the bedding so he could lean over and kiss me goodbye. I made a disappointed noise as he pulled away from me, and he smirked. "None of that, or I'll never get out of here," he teased. "I'll see you tonight."

"See you tonight." He left, and I flopped back onto the pillow with a huff. It didn't take me long to realize I had to get up, that the limousine was going to be waiting in front of the hotel at nine. I threw back the covers and moved quickly to the shower. Even though I felt rushed, I still took a few moments to enjoy the hot water on my skin.

When I finished, I changed into a baby pink V-neck T-shirt and blue jeans with a rhinestone studded skull on the back left pocket. I dried my hair fast and threw it back in a ponytail since I didn't have time to do anything else with it. The makeup I chose was natural, light, and quick, something that wasn't going to look too bad if it somehow got smudged through the course of my day. A denim jacket, purse, and brown chunky heeled boots completed my look. By then, it was five to nine and I had to grab my key-card and move, rushing down the stairs to make it to the limousine in time.

* * *

"Good morning," Trish greeted as I got into the limousine. I thanked the driver as the door shut. As usual, Trish looked far more glamorous than me, dressed in a little black dress with a lot of cleavage, and one black flat shoe and an ankle boot. Two days ago, Trish was training and broke her ankle. Between her makeup, the way her hair fell down around her face, and her dress, any person off the street wouldn't have known the injury was fresh. She looked like she was in very little pain. I wondered how long she fought with her hair this morning, or if she had an early appointment; either way, it made me seethe with jealousy – only the good kind, though.

She handed me a coffee. "Caramel mocha, with whipped cream. Just the way you like it."

"My word, Trish, you're firing on all cylinders this morning," I teased, taking a big sip. "Thank you. I needed this."

"You look absolutely _radiant_ this morning, Rinoa," Trish commented. "Did you get the pipe last night?"

It took everything I had not to spit out my coffee; I choked on it instead, tears springing to my eyes at the burning sensation in my throat. "Jesus Christ, Trish," I choked. Trish laughed while she patted my back. "I sure as hell hope you aren't saying that stuff too loudly around other people." I shot a quick glance at the driver, relieved to see the partition was up between the front and back.

"Not at all," she laughed. "Have you two sealed the deal yet?"

"What? No."

"Seriously?" Trish cocked an eyebrow. "What is the hold-up?"

"I don't know. We travel a lot. Hiding things is exhausting. Take your pick."

"It's starting to eat at you, huh?"

"A little, I guess, but this is what I wanted," I said with a sigh. "It's either him and no job or the job and not him, and I have no idea how I can do this where I can still have both."

"I'm sure there's some way. If Vince fired you over this, then he'd be a huge hypocrite."

"It's his company. He's allowed to be a hypocrite." I sighed, taking a sip of coffee. We fell quiet.

"Kurt called me last night. He was asking me a million questions about you."

"Ugh. What did you tell him?" I asked.

"Nothing. He was trying to see if I had your phone number, but I told him I didn't. He was skeptical, but I just told him we're work friends. He's not going to get your phone number from me. Over my dead body," she snorted. We wore twin expressions of disgust. "He might get away with treating people like garbage when he doesn't get his way, but the days of him taking that shit out on me are _over_."

"You don't know how glad I am to hear that." I thought for a moment and sighed. "I bet you that's who was lighting up Shane's phone last night. Jesus. Even with thousands of miles between us, he still manages to be too close." Kurt and the others were in Louisville, Kentucky, for _Judgment Day_ tomorrow night. Trish and I are on a media weekend together, our first ever, so we don't have to be in that area.

We looked out the window and saw hundreds of fans lined up outside the store. "Jesus Christ, it's like they're waiting for J. Lo," I commented. Even after all this time, the sheer volume of people who show up for these signings blows me away. Trish made a sound.

"It's something, isn't it?"

The limousine drove around to the back of the store, where a young employee with ginger hair and bright green eyes waited for his. The name tag on the left side of his shirt read MATT. He greeted us with a smile, ushering us quickly into the store, giving us all kinds of instructions and directions. His chatter was constant, so much so that Trish and I had to look at each other, the both of us wondering where he was finding the time to breathe.

Walking into the center of the store, we saw the table set up, with photographs and two chairs and two bottles of water. We moved slowly so Trish could keep up. Matt made sure she was comfortable before he rounded the table. "Are you guys good to go? Are you ready?"

"We were born ready," Trish told him with a smile. She had Matt wrapped around her finger, and both of them knew it. He shot her a smile before turning and yelling for his co-worker Julie to open the doors and start letting the fans inside.

It surprised me how many photographs crossed the table from my days in Japan. There were a few WCW promotional shots and a lot of WWF photographs. It's genuinely humbling to meet people who have been following my career for so long. I was stunned to learn that somebody was leaking stories about Shane and me to the dirt sheets; fans were asking me all kinds of questions. Trish laughed the first time; she said I looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Every denial I made had Trish making some kind of smart-ass comment. I constantly had to urge the fans not to listen to Trish, that she was loopy from the pain meds for her ankle.

"It's going to be like that, is it?" Trish laughed, signing her name on a _Muscle & Fitness _cover she had done two years prior. I shot her a look, and she shook her head and laughed. Outside, the sun was bright and the sky was blue. It was one of those days where it felt like nothing was going to be able to bring me down.

* * *

It was just after twelve when Trish and I experienced a small lull in the line. The two of us were scheduled to be at the store until one. Our wrists cramped, our smiles burning, Trish excused herself to use the bathroom and grab some more water. She promised to come back with a bottle for me.

As I tied my table, getting ready for the next batch of fans, I felt a cold shadow over me. Looking up, my gaze fell on a tall muscular man in a straw hat and sunglasses, wearing a Kurt Angle T-shirt. With Trish away from me, I felt my nerves jolt as the realization hit me.

"Kurt?" I asked, incredulous. His puffy lips curved into a smile as he took off his sunglasses.

"Hello, Rinoa."

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk to you since you've been ignoring me."

"Are you kidding?" My gaze fell down to the photograph in his hand. It was taken from one of my website photo shoots, where I wore black and red lingerie with a garter belt. I tried to hide my disgust and discomfort as best as I could, but I'm not a great actress. I sighed. "Should I be signing this so you can go?" I asked. He laughed.

"Your sense of humor is very underrated," he informed me. "How about you sign it for giggles? I promise it won't hit the internet." I rolled my eyes as he slid the photograph over to me and I quickly scrawled my signature on the picture. I knew that this wasn't going to be the end of our exchange, even though every fiber of my being hoped for it. "You have the most beautiful smile I've ever seen," he told me. "It makes your eyes sparkle."

"Thank you," I murmured.

"You should smile more, you know. Your love life that miserable?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Like hell you don't." I looked up at him, startled. I slid the photograph back to him.

"Here's your picture. I'd leave if I were you. A guy your size, your build? You'll be spotted immediately." He shot me a look, and I returned it back. With a scowl, he ripped the photograph out of my hand. Placing his sunglasses back on his face, he murmured under his breath as he turned and stomped away. It took me a few moments after he left to realize that my hands were shaking violently.

He can find me anywhere.

Trish returned, handing me a bottle of water. She gave me a once over. "Are you okay? You look pale."

"I'm not," I said quietly. Trish looked over at Kurt's retreating figure.

"A straw hat? What's his deal?"

"It's Kurt," I whispered. Trish's eyes widened.

"Get the fuck out of here." She looked at me. "Oh, Jesus, you're serious. What is he doing here?"

"He said he wanted to talk to me because I won't talk to him anywhere else. Then he made me sign a picture." Trish laughed. I know it seems like a ridiculous thing, but the ominous feeling in my gut wasn't. Before Trish and I could say anything more, the next batch of fans approached. The joy I felt only twenty minutes before was now replaced with a sinking feeling. Part of me was worried that he'd be waiting for me at the back of the store when we got out.

"This feels like it's getting out of hand," Trish commented. "This is borderline unhinged." I nodded, not able to say much else. It was hard for me to put a smile on and pretend everything was fine.

After a few minutes, Trish leaned over to me. "After this, we should go get some ice cream." I looked at her. "Happy Divas need ice cream..." I sighed.

"Ice cream sounds nice."

* * *

After the signing, Trish and I ended up at an ice cream parlor a few blocks from the store. It was decorated in pastels, in yellow, lavender, pink and white. I ordered a banana split, fighting the urge to smack Trish. She's got the dirtiest mind of every woman I know. She ordered a chocolate dipped ice cream cone. We posed for a few pictures and signed a few napkins before we went to the back of the restaurant.

"He should be in Louisville," I told her with a sigh.

"Is he here?" she asked. I scanned my surroundings.

"I don't see him. Maybe we lost him. Maybe he followed the wrong limo."

"Or maybe somebody realized he was missing and made his ass get on the first flight to Louisville," Trish said.

"I sure hope that's the case." We fell quiet.

"So I hear Shane's planning some kind of invasion with the WCW crew?" Trish asked. I sighed.

"I don't know much about it, but it's appearing that way."

"How is Shane about you hanging around us WWF Divas?" she asked, biting into her chocolate shell. "And, more importantly, if this happens, are you going to defect on us?"

"What? No. There is no defecting. The WWF is my home. I told Shane that while I support him wanting to help out the WCW talent, I want no part of this at all. It's bad enough everyone is going to be looking at me funny anyway."

"He's cool with you not taking part?"

"Of course. The WWF doesn't define our relationship. He said there was no pressure on me whatsoever, and I believe him." We fell silent.

"So...were you lying to me earlier?" Trish asked.

"About?"

"You expect me to believe that you're dating the most eligible bachelor in the business and you aren't fucking?"

"We aren't. Not yet, anyway."

"What's the hold-up?"

"There's no hold-up. We've just been busy and exhausted and people keep interrupting us. It'll happen eventually."

"I can't believe you two aren't banging yet. Are you a virgin or something?"

"What? No." Trish shot me a look. "Why is it so hard to believe there's no rush?"

"I don't know. With a guy like Shane...I just assumed..."

"Can we drop the subject of my sex life, please?" I hissed. Trish smirked.

"We're actually discussing your lack of a sex life." I sighed, defeated.

"Fair enough."

* * *

After my run-in with Kurt, I came back to the hotel and had the hottest shower I could stand. I stood underneath the water until it felt like the grime had been burned off my skin and the bathroom was invisible through the fog. I changed into a baby blue satin nightgown that fell to the top of my thighs. It came with a matching robe that I tied tight around my waist. It's hard for me to leave what happened at the store; the fact that Kurt seems to be so in tune with my schedule is frightening. He's willing to crash anything, to make a scene anywhere. It's like he's making a point.

Walking out of the bathroom, I was startled when I heard the key-card in the door. Turning, my fear turned to relief as Shane walked into the room. "Hey," I greeted. He looked concerned. He slid out of his business jacket and threw it onto the back of the desk chair. He approached me quickly, his hands on my shoulders.

"I got a call from Trish. She told me what happened. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"No. It was just really, really weird," I confessed. He wrapped me in his arms tightly.

"I think it's time to say something to Dad about this."

"Don't."

"Noa..."

"It's only going to lead to more questions, and it's probably just going to make things worse. He'll find someone else, and he'll forget about me." I wanted to believe the words as they spilled from my lips, but I didn't feel so confident. Shane probably felt the same way.

"Noa..."

"I don't want to lose my job over this."

"You won't."

"You don't know that." Shane sighed. "Please. Just...for now. I'll try and handle it."

"You've been trying, Noa. He's not listening. He's stalking you."

"Kurt is a main event player. If I start making problems, I'm the one out the door. I'm not making that much money for you guys, and I know it." He sighed.

"That's an awful way to think."

"But it's accurate. Please. Don't say anything for now."

"Fine." I could tell he wasn't happy. "But the second this gets worse, Rinoa, you won't be able to stop me."


	8. Cry Wolf

Chapter 8: Cry Wolf

* * *

 _Raw_ took place at the Gund Arena in Cleveland, Ohio, on the last Monday in May. It was a warm afternoon, with bright blue skies and not a sign of a cloud. There was a strange electricity in the air when I arrived, a carryover from last week. At the end of last week's _Raw_ , Hunter and Steve were defending their tag team titles against Chris Jericho and Chris Benoit when Hunter unexpectedly tore his quadriceps muscle. He still finished the match, but it was absolute chaos the second Hunter hit the canvas. With one of the WWF's top-tier players out of commission for who knows how long, it feels like everything seems to have been thrown into this weird state of controlled disarray.

It was just past one when I arrived, dressed in dark blue jeans that hung off my hips and a yellow and black striped bustier that pushed everything up and out. I spent some time against the barricade, signing autographs for a few fans and answering a couple of questions. By the time I got inside the arena, it was a quarter after one. I spotted Shane by the loading docks, talking to a tech. He spotted me and smiled, waving me over. I quickly went over to him as the tech said goodbye. Shane turned his attention to me. He was dressed for business in a pinstripe suit with a white shirt underneath, the top three buttons undone.

"Hey, Noa," he greeted.

"Hey. What's the word on Hunter?" I asked. Shane crossed his arms over his chest, leaned against the wall, and grimaced. I shook my head. "That bad, huh?"

"Yeah. The doc opened him up on Tuesday and said it looked like a gun went off in there." I winced.

"Jesus Christ."

"Yeah. But the surgery was a success. That's the good news."

"What's the bad news?"

"Well, right now it's too early to tell if he's going to be able to bounce back from this. The doctor told him that this kind of injury is a career-ending thing, but Hunter's already moved his things down to Birmingham for rehab. He's not going to take no for an answer, so I think he might just be able to do it."

"How's Stephanie taking all of this?"

"Surprisingly well. She's down in Birmingham with him. She's been by his side every step of the way, which is crazy. I honestly didn't think she was capable of loving anyone other than herself." I shot him a look and he returned it. "Her track record speaks for itself." I clamped my mouth shut; I couldn't argue with that.

"I guess _King of the Ring_ is anyone's game now." Shane nodded. With the year Hunter has been having, he was the front-runner to win the tournament. Now he's laid up in bed, watching everything unfold on TV. I feel terrible for Hunter; sure, there are risks involved with pro wrestling, but this is how Hunter supports himself. This is what he loves to do. I can't imagine how he must be feeling. Last week, when everything went sideways, it even cast a pall over Chris and Benoit's title win. Chris told me he had a hard time being happy and excited about someone getting seriously hurt. No matter how angry we get with each other sometimes, what problems we have, we never wish any kind of serious injury on anyone.

"It seems that way." Looking past me, I saw something flicker in Shane's eyes. "Head's up, Noa. Behind you."

Turning, I saw Kurt quickly approaching us, dressed in his 3 I's T-shirt and a pair of dark blue Levi's. Shane shifted so that I was behind him when Kurt reached the two of us, acting as a makeshift barrier between the two of us. Even behind Shane, it felt like Kurt was standing too close to me.

"Hello, Shane. Rinoa." The way he said my name made me shudder.

"Hello, Kurt. You have a match tonight?" Shane asked. Kurt looked at him, and in those blue eyes, I could see nothing but disgust and contempt. It was so visible when he looked at Shane that it knocked me speechless. It was hatred.

"Main event. How about you, Shane-O?" he gloated. It was supposed to be a shot across the bow, but Shane didn't take the bait. Why would he? His father owns the company. If Shane wanted to be a star player or a main event Superstar, I'm sure he could just talk to his father. I backed away from the men a little, just in case a brawl broke out.

"I'm working on a presentation for our Canadian market."

"It doesn't look like you're doing much work to me. To me, it looks like you're fraternizing with one of the Divas." He looked at me. "Do you have a match tonight, Rinoa?"

"No, she doesn't," Shane answered. Kurt turned his gaze to Shane, his face morphing into a glare.

"I was asking her."

"Well, she just got here. She hasn't seen the match card yet. As you can see, she's still dragging around her suitcase." He looked at me, and this time seemed to notice more than my face and my breasts. "I do have it on good authority that she has a match against Lita next week."

"That should be great. After the show tonight, Rinoa, you and I should hook up. I can show you some moves you can use." The innuendo wasn't lost on me. Shane's fist clenched, so I knew it wasn't lost on him either. I touched his back, a wordless warning for him to stay composed. Kurt looked down at Shane's fist and smiled.

"Not tonight, Kurt. I have a headache," I told him quietly.

Kurt looked stung. "Well. You know where to find me if you change your mind. I could show you things you've never seen before. You wouldn't know anything about that, though, would you, Shane-O?" With a grin, Kurt turned on his heels and walked away. He turned and shot me a look. I was shaking my head in disgust. I could feel the rage resonating from Shane like a red-hot halo. We watched until he was gone. Shane turned to me.

"Son of a bitch. Are you okay, Noa?"

"I'm okay." He looked genuinely unsettled by what had just transpired. Desperate to change the subject, I put my hands on my hips. "You never told me about this meeting in Canada, Shane."

"Really?" I nodded. "I could have sworn I did."

"Nope. What's happening up there?"

"It's not a huge deal, but we're going to set up an Ambassador program with some college students, kind of a way to find engaged people who are interested in the business. But I've spent the last week driving myself crazy trying to get a killer presentation ready. I'm the headlining speaker."

"You're a McMahon. You know more about this business than anyone here. You've got this."

He smiled. Quickly looking around, he realized there was no one around, so he leaned in and gave the top of my head a quick kiss. "You look beautiful tonight, by the way. I didn't know yellow could look so hot." I laughed. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Chris wants me to go out and celebrate the title win tonight. I don't know, though. I have to catch a red-eye. But he's been begging. He said I've been out of the party circuit for too long. What about you?"

"Malenko invited me to the same gathering."

"I wish you could come back to the hotel with me tonight."

"I have to, though. Maybe tomorrow night." Shane nodded, but I could tell he was disappointed. He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Could you believe that fucking guy? _'I'm the main event'_ ," he mimicked. I laughed. "Because that apparently means so much to me. It's not like I'm doing anything back here, between the website, the shop, the merchandise. But I'm ranting, and quite frankly, I don't want to do that. He's not going to get to me." I had to smile.

"Then you're a far bigger person than I."

"I have to go do a conference call with some of the WCW guys," he told me. I nodded. Last night he found out that most of the big-name players – Goldberg, Kevin Nash, Rey Mysterio, Scott Steiner – had their contracts paid by Time Warner, and that it was going to be really expensive to pay out. Shane now had to figure out his next steps. "Let me walk you to the locker room."

"It's okay. Go do what you have to do. I've distracted you long enough."

"You're a very welcome distraction. And it's not a problem."

"Shane. I'm okay." He looked at me. I could tell he didn't like it, but he let me win this round. "Okay. Just be careful tonight. If I don't see you after the show, I'll see you at tomorrow's show." I nodded, and the two of us separated.

* * *

"Hey."

"Jesus Christ, don't do that!" I yelped, startled. Turning, I saw Mark standing behind me, dressed in a Big Evil T-shirt and blue jeans, his long hair pulled back in a braid with a bandana. He flashed me a grin, his green eyes sparkling mischievously. I was just outside of catering, finished with an uncomfortable dinner that saw Kurt invade my space with Trish and Jackie. He made all three of us uncomfortable, and I bolted as soon as I was done.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I scare you?" he asked teasingly. I shot him a look.

"You startled me."

"You thought I was Kurt." I didn't have to answer.

"What can I do for you?" I asked him.

"Chris asked me to look in on you. He said he'd do it himself but he's busy being a tag champ." I nodded.

"That sounds just like him. Did you cold cock him for that one?"

"No, but if he'd stayed in the room for another ten seconds, all bets would have been off." I laughed.

"Are you going out with the guys after the show tonight? They're trying to get me to go." He shook his head.

"Nope. I think Sara would shoot me if I did that."

"It's a little soon to be on a choke chain, isn't it?" I teased. Mark shot me a look.

"It's not that. You know me – I do what I want. But I've been going a little crazy the past couple weeks, and the other day she mentioned that just once she'd like a sober phone call at a semi-normal hour. You know, as opposed to drunk dialing the wife when you're stumbling around your hotel room, banging your foot on shit while you're looking for food because room service is closed for the night." I blinked.

"That's...oddly specific. It sounds like you speak from experience."

"Like you haven't been there."

"I'm not the one on trial here," I reminded him with a laugh. We walked down the hallway together. "You know, in all the time I've been here and known you, I don't think I've ever seen you wasted."

"That day will come," he vowed. We fell quiet. "How are you tonight? You been getting any trouble?"

"A little." Mark looked at me, cocking an eyebrow. "Please, don't. I can't handle that look right now."

"What's happening with the little weasel?"

"He's not getting the picture. The usual."

"Rinoa, maybe you should take this to Vince..." Mark pitched. I shook my head.

"I can't do that. Shane said the same thing, but you guys don't get it. He's the draw. I'm just going to end up being another Diva crying wolf. It'll be my word against his, and I'll go from victim to villain. Not to mention Shane will probably get dragged through the mud, too, because of all these ideas people have about the two of us."

"I could always say something. Just mention that I've noticed..." I shook my head.

"I appreciate that, Mark. Really, I do. But that's just going to make it worse."

"Noa..."

"Mark. Please. I'll figure out a way to handle this. But going to Vince is out of the question." Mark sighed.

"Fine. If you don't want me to say anything, and you don't want me to go to Vince, then do me a favor, okay?" I looked at him. "Come to me. If things get out of hand, come to me, okay? Promise me that much?"

"Okay. I promise." Mark walked me back to the locker room before he left me to find his tag partner. I stayed in the locker room for the rest of the night, not leaving for any reason. Two run-ins with Kurt was more than enough for me; I was writing off the rest of the night. I sent a message to Chris, wishing him the best on his celebration with the guys. He was disappointed, but I promised I'd talk to him tomorrow night at _SmackDown._ When the night was over, I was one of the first ones gone, back to the hotel to get everything together before heading to the airport.


	9. Rising Tensions

Chapter 9: Rising Tensions

* * *

Lita charged at me, full-speed, arm out for a clothesline. I ducked. When she turned, I attempted to take her down with a roundhouse kick, but she caught my leg, holding onto it for a few seconds, making me hop. She thought she caught me, but I leveled her with an enzuigiri. I crawled over to her quickly, grabbing her white cargo pant-leg. The referee got down and started counting.

"One...two..."

Lita's shoulder jolted upwards, raising her arm. Rolling onto my back, I leaned against Lita, the two of us exhausted. I was also exasperated. We've been battling for what feels like forever; we know each other so well that it's nothing but missed high impact moves and counter attacks.

I made it back to my feet first, motioning for Lita to get up. She stood, shaking pain out of her right arm. I rushed at her, but she caught me with a kick in the stomach. I found myself in position for a Twist of Fate, but I was able to push her off, into the ropes. When she came back, I ducked under her arm, catching her around the neck and dropping her quickly with the Last Breath. Moving as fast as I could, I covered her, pinning her tightly.

"One...two...three!"

" _You like to think you're never wrong..."_

I knelt on the canvas, hands on my hips and a smile on my face, breathing heavily. It feels like it's been forever since I've won a match, and this could have been anyone's game. Lita was lying on the canvas, looking just as exhausted as me, a hand clapped over her face.

"Here is your winner – Rinoa Fielder!"

The crowd was cheering, but it felt like the reaction was muted. We're in Kansas City, Missouri, and the crowd has been off all night, it feels like. I rolled out of the ring and gave out high-fives to a few people along the barricade. When I got through the curtain, Shane was sitting with Brisco. I didn't see Vince.

"Great job out there," Gerry commented. "That was a hell of a match."

"I can't ever have a bad match with her," I told him. Disappearing down the steps to the backstage area, I slapped hands with Chris in passing; his segment, an interview in the ring with Jim Ross, was up next. We offered a quick greeting, and then he was out of my sight.

Walking down the hallway, I spotted Trish talking with Jeff Hardy in the hallway. Lately, the two of them have been flirting with each other, but Trish is being coy about what is going on, which is pretty rich, considering the way she's been putting the screws to me about Shane. Trish was dressed in a denim mini-skirt with a white tank top, her hair down around her face. Jeff was already dressed in his ring gear; baggy black pants with a sheer top. His blue hair was held back with a bandana and already wet. They quit their conversation when I approached, Jeff and Trish both giving me a hug.

"Hi, Trish. Jeff," I greeted. He gave me a small smile and a quick salute. "How's it going tonight?"

"Not too bad. Matt's gone to try and talk some sense into Malenko," Jeff said. I nodded. As of late, Dean has been acting like Kurt when it comes to Lita. I expected him to be a lot more respectful, especially to his wife at home. I often wish that I understood men and why they do some of the things they do.

"Are you going out with us tonight?" Jeff asked. I laughed.

"Are you kidding me? I still haven't recovered from the last time I went drinking with your team." We all shared a laugh. Matt and Jeff had gotten me so drunk that Chris had to carry me back into the hotel room. That was New Year's Eve. After that, I decided that I wasn't about drinking and partying with the Hardy brothers.

"Trish is going," Jeff told me. I looked at her.

"Don't let them feed you Jager bombs," I told her. "Also – I'm not the donor liver you seek." Trish giggled. "Have fun, though. I'm going to go and clean up. I look like Death, and I'm sure I smell like it, too."

"Kind of," Trish told me.

"That's hurtful." We laughed, and I said our goodbyes and left them. I was only a few feet away from the sanctuary of the Divas locker room when I heard an all-too-familiar voice behind me.

"Hey, Rinoa."

With a sigh, I turned to see Kurt approach, already dressed in his ring gear. He looked smug, so smug that I wanted to slap him. "Don't you have a match coming up?" I asked, not hiding my impatience and disdain. He shrugged.

"Yeah, but that's in, like, twenty minutes." He grinned. "That was a hell of a match with Lita. You two have been putting on some real classics the past few months. I'm really impressed."

"Thanks." My eyes were scanning my surroundings, hoping that Shane or Mark was in the vicinity, that they would round the corner and force this exchange to come to a swift end.

"I wanted to talk to you before you disappeared. I feel like you're hiding lately."

"Just busy."

"Not that busy. I think you're avoiding me."

"What is this about, Kurt?" I snapped.

"I think now is a good time to set a date for our date," he told me. I shook my head.

"No. I appreciate the offer, but..."

"If you appreciate the offer so much, then come on out with me."

"No!" I shook my head in disgust. "Look, I don't know how many more times I have to make it clear that I'm not interested, Kurt. Find somebody else. Leave me alone!" I turned to walk away from him, but he reached out and grabbed me hard by the crook of the arm, yanking me back towards him. "Hey -!"

"Now you listen here..."

"Hey – is there a problem here?"

The voice boomed down the hallway, loud enough to startle both Kurt and I. Looking over his shoulder I saw Shane approaching quickly, his hands curled into fists. My eyes were wide, I know; in all the time I've known Shane, I've never heard him raise his voice. Kurt let go of me as if my skin were made of fire and I stumbled, rubbing my arm.

While Shane's fists were clenched, I knew he wasn't going to swing. That was going to open a floodgate of problems. They stood, face to face, both of them not wanting to give the other an inch. Kurt wants something to take to Vince about the two of us.

I moved quickly to Shane, taking my place behind him. Kurt cocked an eyebrow. He looked at me so intently that I felt like he was peering into my soul. "There's no problem, Shane," I told him. I looked at Kurt and made my voice as firm as possible. "Kurt was _just_ leaving."

The look Kurt gave me was of lust, rage, and contempt, the combination scaring the hell out of me. I wanted to reach out and touch Shane, make him relax, but I knew if I did that, I was going to open a whole new can of worms. "Let it slide," I whispered. Shane was visibly shaking, he was so angry. Kurt was grinning; he knew that he had Shane right where he wanted him. I knew that he didn't want to let it slide, but he knew he had to.

"Come on, Noa. We'll get some catering and watch the rest of the show in my office." Kurt cocked an eyebrow. "Good luck in your match tonight, Kurt. Break a leg."

"Well, thank you, Shane."

"No, I mean it. Break a leg." We walked away together. Shane turned back and I saw him mouth the words "Stay away from her" to Kurt. I didn't look back to see Kurt's response, but Shane was even angrier as we rounded the corner and walked towards catering.

We were quiet. Shane grabbed himself a plate of food, and I just grabbed a bottle of iced tea. I wasn't hungry. Shane offered to make me a plate, but I turned him down. We left catering almost immediately and went to his makeshift office. Once we were inside, he turned to me.

"Shane..."

"Did he hurt you?"

"I'm okay."

"No. You're not. You haven't been okay in a while." He shook his head. "I know you aren't okay, Noa. I caught him with his hands on you." We were quiet. He sighed. "I know you don't want to do this, but maybe it's time we think about going to Dad about this..."

"No. No. We're not going to do that." I shook my head vehemently.

"We have to do something. He's roughing you up in the hallways now!"

"He grabbed me, Shane. That's hardly roughing me up."

"Rinoa." He put his food down on the desk and turned to me. "Stop. Just...stop, okay? You've been making so many excuses about why this isn't so bad, but it's all bad if you don't want this, okay? All of it. It's all bad."

"I know," I said with a sigh. He was right. "But there has to be another way to handle this. Going to your dad is out of the question. I bet you he wants us to go to your dad so he can start filling his head with all kinds of ideas about us. I don't know if you've noticed the way he looks at us when he sees us together, but I see it."

"We can't just do nothing here, Noa. This is getting out of control."

"Mark says I can go to him, okay? We can handle this. But if we go to your dad..."

"You don't think I haven't noticed a change in you, Noa?" he asked. "You used to love coming here. You used to come here with smiles and waves and you used to mingle. Now you always want to hide until you can get the hell out of here. This isn't you. He's doing this to you."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore, okay?" It felt like we were fighting. I hated the feeling.

"Noa..."

"Shane. Please." Whatever he saw in my eyes made my expression soften.

He sighed. "Fine, Noa. But I'm not letting you out of my sight for the rest of the night, okay?"

"I'm fine with that." He opened his arms and I walked into them.

"I'm worried about you, Noa."

"I'll be okay. This will pass." I wasn't feeling so assured, but I didn't want to worry Shane any more than he already was. We hugged tightly for a few moments before he pulled away from me.

"I probably smell so bad," I said. Shane laughed.

"You're fine." He pulled away from me. "Did you want to look over some WCW stuff with me?" I shot him a look. "I know, I know – you're not going to play sides. These are just some things from a business standpoint. I'd like to hear your opinions on a couple things."

"Okay." I moved the chair in front of the desk beside him and sat down. He quickly began pulling paperwork out of his briefcase. We spent the rest of the night going over every aspect of WCW. Even a few months later, I'm still stunned that the people over there managed to scorch the Earth.


	10. King of the Ring

Chapter 10: King of the Ring

* * *

I arrived at the Continental Airlines Arena in East Rutherford, New Jersey, with Shane by my side, which earned the two of us a lot of stares and attention. We did our best to brush it off as we stopped to talk, joke and take pictures with fans. The night before, I was doing a _King of the Ring_ press appearance at New York, doing interviews to hype up the event tonight. After the show, Shane met me backstage and took me around his favorite sights. I got to see the side of New York that Shane loves so much, and it's hard to fault him for it. This morning we drove out together.

There was a static electricity in the air. The chatter backstage was heavy; everyone was taking bets on who was going to win the tournament. I put in for Edge, a Canadian wrestler with a great smile and an even better sense of humor. Everyone seemed to favor Kurt Angle to become the 2001 King of the Ring tonight, and it's hard to argue with their logic; since coming into the WWF in November 1999 he's been on a hot streak. I don't see it going cold anytime soon.

It was a beautiful day, and I was dressed for summer in olive green shorts and a white quarter-sleeve blouse that was tucked in at the waist. My hair was in a ponytail. I wore black high heels. Shane was dressed in his usual corporate attire, with a red button-down shirt with his black suit. We separated early, with Shane retreating to his office. I walked down the hall, saying hello to everyone, greeting friends and colleagues with hugs and handshakes. When I got to the match card, I let my shoulders sag; I was on the _Heat_ card, which isn't a problem.

I was booked in a bra and panties match with Terri Runnels.

Sometimes, the WWF has a way of keeping people humble. Sure, I've been having classic matches with Lita. But at the end of the day, they can push me down to matches like this. They can do it to Trish, they can do it to Lita. I stood in front of the match card for a few minutes, my eyes and my brain trying to meet in the middle and accept that this wasn't a mistake on the card.

After I came to terms with how my night looked, I went to the Divas locker room, dragging my suitcase behind me. Instead of wrestling in my actual gear, I decided to just go with some basic clothing that I was okay with having destroyed, a pair of black bell-bottom pants and a hot pink tank top that exposed a little bit of midriff. I quickly got changed and laced up my boots. While I was putting on the elbow pads, I double checked my appearance in the mirror, making sure there were no snags in the fabric, or any underwear sticking out of the gear.

Opening the door to go for hair and makeup, I was stunned to find Kurt on the other side of the door, not yet dressed in his ring gear. He wore a plain black T-shirt and blue jeans. Without saying a word he strolled past me as if he were walking inside his own locker room. My eyes narrowed into slits. Closing the door behind me, I crossed my arms over my chest.

"What do you want?"

"You're defensive tonight," he observed.

"Why are you here?"

"I'm going to win King of the Ring tonight, you know," he informed me. "After that, I was thinking you'd want to finally come out with me. We can celebrate."

"Thanks, but no thanks, Kurt. I have other plans."

"With Shane." His tone was accusatory. I cocked an eyebrow at how petulant he sounded.

"It doesn't matter who or what I'm doing – I have plans."

"Come off it, Rinoa. Everyone knows there's something up between the two of you."

"If that's the case, Kurt, why are you still wasting your time?" He stared at me, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. It was his turn to cross his arms over his chest.

"So you admit it?"

I looked over his shoulder, at the clock on the wall. "You can think whatever you want, Kurt, but I've got things to do." I opened the door. He reached for me, but I was already walking down the hall. Lita walked into the locker room, and from the end of the hallway, I could hear her yelling for him to get out of the women's locker room.

* * *

Terri Runnels walked through the curtain and stood on the stage. She was dressed in a white see-through top and little black shorts. Her black bra was super visible through her shirt. I watched her from a monitor walk down to the ring, her index fingers pointed behind her head like devil horns. When she got in the ring, she walked to the side and stood on the bottom rope, leaning over to give the crowd a good view of her cleavage. I approached the curtain and waited for Terri's music to fade.

The lights went out in the arena and my music hit. When the red and purple lights started, I walked out onto the stage. People were still filling the arena, but the cheers were loud. I walked down the ramp, rushing up the steps and getting into the ring. Terri got out of the ring and let me have a moment to pose for the crowd. She slid back in, hoping to attack me from behind, but I jumped off the turnbuckle and turned to her. Terri stopped in her tracks.

She tried to slap me, but I blocked her, dropping her with a slap of my own. The referee called for the bell and the bra and panties match was officially underway. I grabbed Terri by the hair and threw her across the ring with a hard throw. The referee admonished me for it, but I pointed out that she tried to play dirty first. While Terri's lack of desire to improve as a wrestler irritates me, normally I have no real issue with her, but the harsh reality is that Kurt invading the locker room put me in a dour mood. Reaching down, I grabbed at Terri's shirt. It was so thin that it tore apart in my hands. The men in the crowd were visibly yelling and cat-calling. I threw the shirt outside the ring.

While I was showboating to the crowd, Terri came up behind me and with a hard tug, my shirt came off like it was made of paper. The bra I was wearing was an ivy green demi cup bra.

Turning, Terri tried to rush me with a clothesline. I quickly hit her with the Last Breath and removed her shorts. I wanted to keep the match short and sweet, save all of us the humiliation of being stripped in front of a bunch of guys who were already getting buzzed.

I was already out of the ring and halfway up the ramp when Lilian announced me the winner, Terri's shorts still in my hand. I threw them into the crowd, turned on my heels and walked backstage.

* * *

Kurt was waiting for me backstage with a black silk robe in his hands. "Hey. Great job out there. I thought you could use this." His eyes were focused on my breasts. I took the robe from him quickly and covered myself, tying the sash extra tight.

"Thank you," I said quietly. "I have to go. Good luck tonight."

He reached out for me again, but I was already down the steps.

* * *

I was surprised to find Shane waiting for me in the Divas locker room. The other girls were gone, off doing their photo shoots and interviews. Shane was sitting on a steel folding chair. "Hey. Great match tonight." We stared at each other for a few seconds before we started laughing.

"Get out of here." I locked the locker room door and quickly rushed over to him. He was already on his feet. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kissed him hard, thankful that he was with me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me into him tightly. I pulled away from him.

"I'm going to take a quick shower. If somebody knocks, it's probably Kurt. Ignore him, please. I've already had two run-ins with him tonight." Shane shot me a look as if he wanted to ask more questions, but I gathered my bath items and walked into the shower.

I took a short shower, just long enough to clean up and wash my hair. Even over the water, I could hear the banging on the door. It wasn't Trish, or Nora, or Jackie; it was too strong. When I finished my shower, I changed back into my olive shorts, black heels, and white blouse. I came out of the shower area, putting my heels on, cocking my head for Shane to hide in the shower. If Kurt came in and found Shane and me together in a locked locker room, I knew there was going to be hell to pay. He could tell Vince, or worse, he could blackmail the two of us. Shane looked reluctant to go and hide, but he did with no questions asked. Agitated at the incessant pounding on the door, I walked over and opened it up, drying my hair feverishly with a white towel.

"I started knocking ten minutes ago," Kurt raged, walking into the room without an invitation. I noticed that his knuckles were red from the constant knocking. I threw my towel down on a steel folding chair, trying hard not to convey how shocked I was at how possessive and unhinged he sounded.

"You didn't get the hint after five? I was in the shower. I didn't hear you." He turned to me and seemed to notice that my hair was wet. The way he looked...it was as if he was picturing me in the shower. It made my skin crawl and my stomach lurch. Even with Shane behind a corner, I didn't feel all that safe. "Why are you here? What do you want?"

"You said you have plans, but tonight I'm not going to take no for an answer. After I become the King of the Ring, some things are going to change, especially between the two of us." His tone seemed menacing, almost threatening. I looked at him incredulously, unable to keep myself from scowling at him.

"I'd rather chew glass. Now get out."

"Why? So you can leave and go run away and spend your night with Shane?" he sneered.

"Whatever, Kurt," I said derisively. "I'm not doing this with you tonight."

"Give me this, for argument's sake: if you are fucking Shane McMahon, I want to know what he's got that I don't?"

"The hint."

"You think you're so fucking clever. I'll give you this – you're a firecracker." He looked me up and down. "I bet you'd be wild in bed."

"I'm not asking you again, Kurt. Leave. _Now_." The level of disgust I felt was almost overwhelming in how intense it was. But Kurt wasn't budging. I stepped away from the door so he could leave. It was my mistake; I let my guard down.

Before I could register what happened, he lunged at me, backing me up and pinning me against the wall with his forearm against my throat. I cried out as my head smacked against the wall. I could barely breathe. He was against me; I could feel him against my thigh. I wanted to be sick as he kissed his way up my neck, to my earlobe. I shut my eyes, fighting the urge to cry. "Fine. Have it your way," he said in my ear. He sucked on the lobe while I struggled against him. "This isn't over between us." He let me go and I began to wheeze as he walked out, slamming the door shut behind him. The tears in my eyes that were threatening to spill erupted from my eyes.

The second the door clicked, Shane emerged from the shower area, trembling with rage. I've never seen him so angry in my life. He watched me, leaned against the wall, holding my neck, trying to regain my composure. "That motherfucker..."

"Shane, please," I pleaded. "Let it go."

I could still feel Kurt's lips on my neck, on my ear, and my skin wouldn't stop crawling. Shane rushed to me, running his fingers over the redness in my neck, through my hair, searching for a lump. I flinched when he found it, and that only made him angrier.

"Fuck that. That son of a bitch is mine." With that, Shane was gone.

Frustrated, I turned and kicked my suitcase. When I caught myself, I rushed out to try and cut Shane off at the pass. But he was gone. It was too late.

* * *

Trish, Lita and I stood at the interview monitor, watching the King of the Ring tournament progress. Kurt was too focused on his match to see Shane coming for him. Sliding into the ring, Shane pounced on Kurt and started swinging on him. He was borderline feral; the look on Shane's face scared me. I watched intently as Kurt's _King of the Ring_ hopes went up in smoke, killing the talent pool. Dozens of referees stormed the ring to pull them apart. Shane was screaming, out of his mind, and both men were trying to break through the crowd of referees.

"It's okay, Noa," Trish soothed, rubbing my back. The tears were threatening to fall from my eyes again. I told them about what happened earlier, about Kurt attacking me in the locker room. They volunteered to stay with me for the rest of the night since neither of them had a match.

An hour after attacking Kurt, I found Shane in his locker room, dressed in a red Shane O'Mac jersey and black track pants. He was sliding on his elbow pads, bouncing from foot to foot to get his adrenaline going. I leaned against the wall, arms crossed over my chest. I still had a headache from the force of Kurt pushing me; two Advil tablets weren't helping that.

As a result of his attack on Kurt, Vince decided that Shane and Kurt were going to hash out their differences in a Street Fight that neither man had time to prepare for.

Shane stopped jumping when his eyes fell on me. His expression softened. I felt this heavy, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach; Shane is a part-time wrestler with a penchant for doing crazy things. Kurt is an Olympic athlete. I didn't feel like there was anything about this match that fell in Shane's favor.

He approached me, brushing hair out of my face. "I'm sorry, Noa. I've tried doing what you say, but I can't let this stand." I nodded numbly.

"I know."

"If I don't do something now, it's going to keep getting worse," he pressed. I nodded, knowing that he's right. He kissed me, and I sighed into the kiss, letting my body fall into him. But I'm sure he could feel all the tension in my body. He pulled back. "I love you, Noa. I love you so much that I have to do this."

"I know." My voice cracked. He touched my face.

"After the match, we'll go back to the hotel and have ice cream, okay?" I nodded. "Smile for me."

"I don't think I can do that right now."

"Please." I stared into his eyes, brown eyes full of love and concern, and I mustered a sad smile that seemed good enough for him. He brushed a strand of hair behind my shoulder. "You're so beautiful when you smile."

"Be careful. Don't do anything stupid, please." He nodded, but I knew it was a promise he couldn't keep.

"Come on. I'll take you to Trish and Lita for the match. Whatever you do, don't come out there, okay? Let me handle this." I nodded. With a gentlemanly hand on my spine, we left his locker room, heading back towards the women's locker room.

* * *

Shane's music blared through the speakers and he emerged through the curtains with his trademark Shuffle before he made a beeline to the ring. Trish, Lita and I were sitting on steel folding chairs, the three of us glued to the TV screen. I knew this was going to be an uphill battle for Shane, and from the look in his eyes, I knew he was aware of it. Kurt was by far the better wrestler of the two men; his gold medal was proof of that. Shane barely had any formal training.

He slid into the ring and waited for Kurt to make his entrance. Shane paced back and forth like a caged animal, ready to beat and humiliate Kurt for everything he's put us through the past six months. Part of me felt like this was Shane making some kind of stand; the thought that he could fail didn't seem to cross his mind.

Kurt's music started and I sucked in a breath. Shane assumed his best fighting stance. Kurt looked pissed as he stood at the top of the stage and posed for his fireworks. Shane had hit him where it hurt; Kurt wasn't going to be the King of the Ring at the end of the night.

After his red, white, and blue pyrotechnics exploded, Kurt made a beeline to the ring. Shane tried to brace himself, but Kurt was on him quickly, taking him down and hitting him in the face repeatedly. Shane tried to get away, but Kurt took him down with a belly to back suplex. I was wringing my hands, shaking with nervousness, Trish to my left and Lita to my right. I breathed a sigh of relief when Shane got an early advantage, taking Kurt down with arm drags and an inverted Russian leg sweep.

It didn't take long for the match to get personal, and very brutal. Both of them pulled out every move they had. The three of us watched Shane climb to the top rope after resting a garbage can on Kurt's stomach. He went for a Shooting Star Press, a forward flip off the top rope, but Kurt moved, leaving Shane to land on the garbage can on his stomach. Trish, Lita and I cringed. I cupped a hand over my mouth.

"Jesus. I didn't know he could do that," Trish mused. Kurt covered Shane, and the three of us were relieved when Shane got his shoulder up at two. The match quickly spilled to ringside. Kurt attempted to suplex Shane on the ramp, but Shane countered with a vertical suplex of his own. Kurt looked like he hurt himself on the landing. The match was so back and forth that it made me queasy.

They brawled up to the stage area. Kurt grasped Shane around the torso and tried to throw him through the glass on the set. Shane hit the glass, but it didn't break. I cried out when he hit the ground head-first, the sound of his skull cracking against the concrete with a sickening _thud_. "Fucking hell," Lita said, shaking her head in disbelief. Shane lay on the ground, knocked out – or even worse, paralyzed. The referee was over him, asking him questions. I was relieved that he seemed to be able to respond. Kurt grabbed Shane and tried again; this time the glass broke as Shane's body hit.

The cameras followed them through the glass. Kurt tried to suplex him through the glass again, but it wasn't happening. I cringed every time Shane landed head-first. Finally, frustrated, Kurt threw Shane face-first through the glass. He lay on the ground in a heap on the glass, and I found myself almost hysterical. Trish and Lita were each holding onto a hand, trying to comfort me as best they could.

"Maybe you should go wait in the trainer's room for him. I think he's going to need you after this," Trish told me, her voice soft. I nodded; the illusion that he could win this fight had been effectively shattered. I looked away, repulsed when Kurt loaded Shane's body onto a storage box and began wheeling him to the ring. Both of them were bleeding.

"I can't watch this." I shook out of their grasps and left the room. Just outside the door, I tried to catch my breath and fought the urge to throw up. The tears were spilling from my eyes. I never wanted this; I didn't want any of this. Now, there was a good chance that Shane was going to be spending his night in the hospital.

* * *

Shane was bleeding, incoherent, and babbling when the referees helped him in the trainer's room. The cut on his forehead looked to be by his hairline on the left side. I didn't have to see the match to know that he lost. I was waiting for him when they arrived. I shook my head. "Jesus Christ," I murmured.

I helped the referees get Shane onto the observation table. Shane looked at me, and my heart broke. His eyes shone with the defeat and despair. I went to hug him, but he held up a hand. He wouldn't let me touch him. It was that moment where I really resented having to keep things a secret. He wouldn't let me touch him, even to grab his hand for a squeeze. I later found out it was because he didn't want to see me wearing his blood. He told me he couldn't handle that.

Before I could say anything, Dr. Rios was upon us, explaining to Shane that he was going to clean him up, ask him some questions and put some stitches in his forehead. While he worked on Shane, the doors opened and the referees brought Kurt in to be looked after as well. I refused to look at him; I kept all my attention on Shane.


	11. The Morning After

**Chapter 11: The Morning After**

* * *

"A guy could get used to waking up like this," Shane commented before his words were cut off by a deep morning yawn. Dressed in nothing but his _WrestleMania X-Seven_ jersey – his shirt from last night was too damaged – my hair in a ponytail, I straddled his waist, gently rubbing his chest and shoulders. Bruised and battered from his battle last night, it took six stitches to close the wound Shane got on his forehead when he went face-first through the glass. The doctors covered his stitches with a Band-Aid for the night.

The alarm clock on the nightstand said it was just after five. It was starting to get light outside, but it was still going to be another hour before the sun started coming in through the blinds. I stared down at him, mustering the most reassuring smile I could, but I knew he was still stinging from his loss the night before. He didn't have to say he was disappointed; it hung over the entire night like a dark cloud. I think he believes that the match with Kurt was his last stand, but he can't bring himself to say those words out loud. There was so much he wanted to say when we got back to the hotel last night, but silence hung in the air between us. Until he showered and cleaned up, he wouldn't let me touch him. After his loss, he insisted on spending the night with me, in case Kurt decided to meet me at my room. Even battered and bruised, Shane was still ready to go for round two if he had to. We ended up eating ice cream and finding a movie to watch before we curled up together.

He fell asleep almost right away, but I stayed awake, my brain in overdrive. I'm sure Kurt is fully aware of why Shane attacked him, why they had a street fight and he lost his shot to become King of the Ring. I don't think this is the end of things with Kurt; there's a good chance it won't end until Shane and I go public, but I'm not sure if that will ever happen. It's getting harder to feel confident that everything is going to work out. Seeing couples out and about, holding hands and hugging makes me jealous. But I chose this.

"I'd ask how you're feeling, but I've got a pretty good idea." Despite how exhausted and beaten up he was, I could feel him pressed against me. His hands moved from my thighs to my hips to keep me in place, pushing me against him even more. I gasped at the feeling. "Am I hurting you? I can move..."

"Don't move. I like this." His hands moved from my waist to the front of the jersey, unbuttoning it from the bottom up. I found myself becoming nervous with each button that came undone. His eyes seemed to sparkle as each button popped open to reveal skin. He sat up to unbutton the top two buttons of the jersey before he pushed it over my shoulders and down my arms. He pulled back. "Are you okay?"

"Nervous. It's been a long time."

"How long?"

"Three years." I ran my fingers through his hair, worried about touching him anywhere else, in case I hurt him. His mouth was on mine, our kiss fiery. Our tongues found a comfortable rhythm quickly. It didn't take me long to get lost in what he was doing with his hands, with his tongue. Finally, I had to pull back, gasping for breath like I'd been sprinting.

Neither of us made any effort to stop what was happening. We both needed this, for a lot of different reasons. It was as if the pain Shane felt from the night before had disappeared. I was on my back in the blink of an eye, yelping as I hit the pillow before erupting into a fit of giggles. He grinned, and then his lips were on my neck, placing kisses on my earlobe, my neck, moving lower to my breasts, and then to my stomach. My breath was hitching; I was shaking, I was so nervous. He rubbed my hips and thighs to try and keep me comfortable, but I was so nervous. What if I disappointed him? What if I wasn't any good?

Any thoughts and doubts I had disappeared when I felt him kiss the inside of my thigh. I shut my eyes and let myself focus on what he was doing. This was an entirely new experience and not an unwelcome one. I felt him take my hand, holding it, and I found myself touched by the gesture. My body was writhing involuntarily; he had to let go of me to hold me down. The longer I moaned and the more my breath hitched, the quicker he worked, until I was falling over the edge, shaking uncontrollably, clamping a hand over my mouth to keep myself from screaming so loud that every room on the floor could hear me.

When he pulled away from me, moving up so we were face to face, my hips were still moving involuntarily. I realized while he was naked and ready to go, and I wondered when that happened. "Do you want to do this?" he asked. I nodded. "If you don't want to..."

"Are you hurt?"

"I really don't care right now." He kissed me, slowly pushing inside of me as our tongues clashed. I gasped, holding onto his shoulders tight. This was really it; the point of no return. He stilled, letting me have a few moments to adjust. It had been so long. I struggled to catch my breath. I moved a hand from his shoulder and stroked his cheek; he turned his head and kissed the palm of my hand. "Beautiful," he commented.

"Move... _please_ ," I pleaded, my voice quiet but desperate. His mouth covered mine and he was moving in long, smooth strokes that had me quickly shuddering underneath him. I held onto him tightly, not wanting to let him go. It was everything I'd hoped for; sweet, romantic, and kind of hot because it's secret. If he was in pain from last night, it seemed to be gone now, like his adrenaline had kicked in to numb the pain.

It was like everything clicked. Without a word we moved together, finding a steady rhythm. I held onto him tightly, never wanting to let him go. Growing up I'd read my mom's romance novels and hear about the bells and whistles and stars, and I never thought it was a real thing. Here, in this moment, I learned that it was possible. We both fell over the edge, repeating those three little words over and over again. He collapsed onto his forearms, careful not to crush me, peppering kisses over my forehead and cheeks.

"Wow."

"Yeah. Wow," he agreed. He moved carefully, and I suddenly felt cold. I pulled the blanket up over my body. He pulled me close so I was resting my head on his chest. We were quiet for a while.

"Shane..."

"Last night was my chance to make him stop."

"I don't think anything is going to do that," I told him, placing a soft kiss on his chest. "But thank you for trying. You didn't have to do that."

"Yeah. I did." I placed my hand on his cheek, rubbing the skin with my thumb.

"Also, I owe you a _huge_ thanks."

"Why?"

"After you took Kurt out, I won the _King of the Ring_ pool. I won four hundred bucks." Shane laughed.

"I love the way you always look for the silver lining."

"I try." With a yawn, I sat up, keeping the blanket held against my chest. "I hate to do this, but I should probably get up. I'm meeting Chris for breakfast this morning. He said I owe him breakfast for winning the pool."

"Am I invited?"

"If you want to be. I wouldn't blame you if you just wanted to hang here and lick your wounds. You went through a hell of a war last night," I reminded him. He nodded. "You do too much anyway. You could always use some time to relax."

"If you don't want me to..."

"No. It's not that at all. I just want you to feel better." I reached out and touched his face. "I'm going to have a shower."

"I should, but I'm actually going to get the extra twenty minutes of rest. Would you mind grabbing some Tylenol for me? The stitches are kind of throbbing this morning." I nodded, reaching for my robe and tying it around my waist. I got him everything he needed before retreating to the bathroom.

The shower I took was long and hot; I didn't get out until the mirrors were fogged and I could barely see through the steam. I felt exhausted but in the best kind of way. I wiped away the fog on the mirror repeatedly with the palm of my hand before applying my makeup and drying my hair. I walked out into the room and went to my suitcase on the couch, changing into a pair of jeans and a blue quarter-sleeve blouse. Shane was on his side; I assumed he was sleeping.

I was startled by knocking on the door. Shane sat up as if he had heard a gunshot. We exchanged confused glances; we were both tense, and I'm sure it was because we were both convinced that Kurt was standing on the other side. Moving to the door, I looked through the peephole and felt a sigh of relief when I saw Chris on the other side.

Opening the door, Chris was dressed in blue jeans and a Metallica T-shirt, his blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. He walked into the room as if he owned the place, stopping in his tracks when he saw Shane in my bed. "What are you doing here?" he asked Shane suspiciously.

"Linda asked if Shane could crash with me because of his injuries last night," I told him quickly. Chris snorted.

"What fucking injuries? Are you serious right now? Get your ass out of bed, McMahon, and stop being a fucking pussy. Jesus Christ."

"He has a concussion, Chris. Someone needed to be close by to wake him up every few hours."

"That was pretty sick. The sound your head made when it hit the floor..." Chris and I both cringed. I'll never forget the ugly _thud_ his head made, the way his body folded on top of itself. "Are you coming to breakfast with Noa and I?"

"I was thinking about it."

"You're a crazy motherfucker, aren't you?" Chris asked with a roll of his eyes. "I don't think Kurt's done with you. Not since you cost him _King of the Ring_."

"I don't think it's done, either," I said with a sigh. Chris shot the two of us a look, and it looked like the wheels in his head were turning. But he didn't ask any questions. I had a feeling that would happen the next time him and I had time to ourselves. Chris likes to spring things on me when we're alone.

"If he ever jumps off a bridge, Noa, you'd better not follow suit," he told me. Shane pouted.

"I resent that."

"I do, too. I'm not insane," I told him. Shane shot a look at me, his mouth hanging open.

"Thanks a lot."

"Well, when you're done resting up and licking your wounds like a little bitch, Noa and I will be downstairs having breakfast. Feel free to join us," Chris said, draping his arm around my shoulders.

"Fuck you, Jericho – I'm not a little bitch. Let's see you do this shit."

"Fuck that. I'm not stupid." He winked at me, and I had to shake m head. "Come on, Noa."

"Give me a call if you aren't coming down. I'll bring you something back," I told him. Shane nodded. He lay back down on the bed as I followed Chris out of the room.

"Spending the night together now?" Chris asked.

"It's not what it looks like."

"Sure, Noa. Whatever you say." The elevator opened and we got in. Our conversation died because Steve and Vince were in the elevator. The two of us made small talk on the way down, but to Chris's credit, he didn't reveal to Vince that his son was currently sleeping in my room.


	12. Time Out

**Chapter 12: Time Out**

* * *

Shane decided to take the night off to nurse his injuries from last night's street fight at _King of the Ring_. We knew that Vince would never okay a decision like that since he seems to have it in for his son, but Linda was all for it. She wanted me to take the night off to watch Shane, but Shane and I agreed that it would look too suspicious. It was my plan to go back to the hotel after the show, but Mark and the guys were going out and wanted me to go. I tried to come up with every excuse I could, but Shane was adamant that I go have a fun night out.

After the taping loop this week, Shane is off to Canada to do his big presentation, now with six stitches in his forehead. I know he's not happy about that, but there's not a whole lot he can do. He wanted me to come with him for the presentation, but I'm doing tag matches with Lita on the house show loop while he's gone. I'm not going to lie; I'm going to miss having him around while he's gone.

Vince put me in a match against Ivory. It was a hard-fought match; I barely squeaked out the victory. I made my way backstage, catching Trish for the first time since I arrived. She was dressed to manage, in a black vinyl mini-skirt and a black halter top, with a zebra trench-coat and hat.

"Good match out there."

"It's hard to have a bad match with Ivory," I told her. She fell into step beside me.

"You're absolutely glowing. Somebody got the pipe last night."

"You're the worst, Trish. The absolute worst."

"I know that glow, honey." She draped her arm over my shoulders. "Was it good?"

"I'm not talking about that here, and I got plans tonight, so you're just going to have to wait." Trish pouted. "Seriously, Trish, sometimes I think you're out to get me killed back here." Trish laughed.

"How's he doing?" she asked, removing her arm from around my shoulders. "That was a hell of a beating."

"It was," I agreed. "He's hurt. But he's okay. He decided to hang back and lick his wounds a little."

"Why do I sense there's more to it?" Trish asked as we walked into the Divas locker room.

"Because there is. He's beating himself up over the loss." I shook my head. "He saw this as his last chance to make Kurt back off." Trish nodded.

"I get that." I went to my bag and grabbed a pair of black slacks and a burgundy flowing halter top to wear out after the show. "Have you seen Kurt tonight?"

"No. But I've been in hiding tonight."

"You really should say something about him assaulting you, Rinoa. That's not right at all."

"I know it's not. But Kurt knows about Shane and I. I'm not sure how he found out, but he knows. And the second I admit it, he's going to have this blackmail material on me, and on Shane." I shook my head. "I don't know how this situation became such a mess, but it is. And if he goes to Vince, I'm going to get fired. And with the way he's been acting, I'd hate to think about what he would do to Shane for getting involved with me."

"I know you don't want to hear this, but...have you thought about just going public? You do that, and it takes the wind out of his sails. I know you're scared of the fallout, but Kurt is getting worse."

"I don't know. I think this is a talk I should be having with Shane." Trish nodded.

"That's the first smart thing I've heard you say in all of this."

"Just because I had a match with Ivory tonight doesn't mean I won't throw down with you," I told her with a laugh.

"You love me," Trish reminded me.

"And I hate myself for it. I'm going to have a shower."

"But you didn't tell me about the glow!" Trish said. I sighed and disappeared into the shower. I didn't have to look back to know that she was pouting.

* * *

Tempest Bar was in full swing when I arrived with Mark, Kane, Trish, Jackie and Shawn Stasiak in tow. It's a bit of a drive back to the hotel in New Jersey – tonight's _Raw_ was at the legendary Madison Square Garden arena – so I didn't want to stay out too late. Trish walked in by my side, dressed in a white peasant blouse that was off-the-shoulder and a denim mini-skirt. Jackie was in jeans and a black tank top, her braids pulled back into a low ponytail. Mark looked like he belonged in a biker bar, dressed head to toe in denim, with his bandana and sunglasses. Kane was casual, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans. I have to admit that it's hard to feel fearful for my safety with the Brothers of Destruction behind me.

Everyone hit the dance floor almost right away, leaving Mark and I sitting at a table, watching them. Trish tried to get him to join them on the floor, but he looked her dead in the eye and told her that dead men don't dance. I had to bite back a giggle as Trish pouted before she grabbed Shawn and dragged him to the floor.

I was drinking a whiskey sour – at Mark's insistence; he was doing the same – and I was all too aware of Mark's green eyes watching me through the lenses of his sunglasses. He leaned over to me.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked. I nodded.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Just thinking."

"Anything you want to talk about?" he asked. I sighed.

"I really wish it was something I could talk about, but I can't."

"Is it about what happened last night with Shane and Kurt?" he asked. I looked at him, and I knew I didn't have to say a word; the answer was written all over my face, imprinted in my eyes. Mark nodded, reaching out to put a hand on mine. In that moment, I knew that he was reading the entire situation loud and clear. Mark is a perceptive man; there's not a lot that gets past him. He slid over, closer to me. "Why did he attack Kurt last night, Rinoa? Level with me."

I looked at him, my eyes pleading with him, but he wasn't going to take no for an answer. With every day that passes, my secrets seem to be getting harder to keep. "You can tell me, Rinoa. Whatever is said is between the two of us and nobody else. You can trust me. Hunter did."

"Promise me you won't make a big deal out of this," I told him. He looked surprised by my response, but he nodded. I took a sip of my drink – with a wince, I'm not a whiskey drinker like the big Texan beside me – and took a deep breath. "Kurt got rough with me last night. He stormed the locker room and wouldn't leave."

"He fucking _what_?" Mark boomed. The loudness of his voice made me jump, and I was aware that a few of the patrons were looking at us. I wished the floor would open up and swallow me whole. He looked at me as if I had just told him the moon really was made of cheese, that Bigfoot really does exist.

"You promised you wouldn't make a big deal." He sighed and took a big sip of his drink.

"Did he hurt you?"

"A little. He, uh, pinned me against the wall." Mark looked like he was ready to break somebody's neck with his bare hands.

"How did Shane find out?"

"I don't want to go too deep into this." Mark cocked an eyebrow.

"Rinoa, you've got to trust somebody. What is going on with the two of you?"

"He's my best friend." Mark stared at me. I'm not sure if he believed my answer. "And he lost last night, so now he feels like he let me down. And I can't shake that feeling out of him."

"He's back at the hotel?" he asked. I nodded. "Go to him, Rinoa. You know you want to."

"I can't do that. I promised you guys I'd come out and have some fun. I promised Shane I would. Plus I came with Trish, so she's got the keys."

"You're too worried about him to have a good time." He looked at me, at the almost full drink in my hand. There was a moment of silence between us. "You're in love with him."

"Mark..."

"You don't have to answer. I can see it. Come on – let's go call you a cab and get you where you need to be."

We stood, the two of us walking towards the front exit. Mark was already on his cell phone, calling the cab. It's a half hour drive from New York to East Rutherford. We stood outside in the warm July evening. "I'm sorry, Mark," I offered.

"Oh, don't even worry about it. You think I've never been in love before?" he asked with a laugh. I shot him a look. "Besides, I'm worried about him, too. He took a hell of a beating last night."

"He did." We leaned against the wall. I sighed. "Everything's a mess."

"You can't help how you feel." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I've seen it for a while. He's had a thing for you since Chris showed him that video of your Japanese work." I looked at Mark, surprised. "He talked about you to anyone who would listen. And when you showed up...I saw the way he looked at you. I see the way he looks at you. I think he's in love with you, too."

"I owe you another night out," I told him, desperate to change the subject. Thankfully, he took the bait.

"You're goddamn right you do," he told me with a grin. The cab pulled up and he gave me a hug before opening the door. "I'll see you at _SmackDown_ tomorrow. Don't worry – I'll handle Trish."

"Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow." I got inside the cab. He made sure I was inside and comfortable before he shut the door. I gave the driver directions and he drove away from the club. Mark stayed out on the sidewalk and watched until he disappeared from my view.

* * *

When I walked into the room, Shane was sitting on the bed watching a replay of _Raw_. He looked over at me, surprised. "Hey. What are you doing back so early?" he asked. He moved to get off the bed, but I motioned for him to stay as I kicked off my heeled sandals.

"Mark sent me back here."

"He did not."

"He did." I walked over to the bed and sat down beside him. "He said I wasn't having any fun. He said I needed to be here, so he called a cab and here I am."

"His sixth sense is uncanny," Shane remarked. I nodded.

"How's your stomach?" I asked. Last night, there was a bruise the shape of a trashcan forming from where he missed the Shooting Star Press. Grabbing the bottom of his shirt, I pulled it up to look at the red and purple bruise that was getting darker.

"I'm fine, Rinoa. At this rate, you're never going to have a social life again."

"I'm sorry. In my defense, Mark says he's worried about you, too." He winced when I touched the bruise.

"Stephanie called tonight."

"Oh? What does she want?"

"She's thinking about staging a comeback." I blinked.

"Is Hunter fine already? I thought he's going to be out for at least a year."

"He is, but Steph is going stir-crazy. Apparently, ECW just filed for chapter eleven."

"You're kidding." Extreme Championship Wrestling – ECW – is a little renegade promotion run by Paul Heyman. For the past couple years, the WWF has used the company as a developmental facility, taking talent like Tazz, Bubba Ray and D-Von Dudley, Lita, and Stone Cold Steve Austin. I've been hearing for a while that they've had financial troubles – he still owes Chris money – but I figured they were on an even keel since landing their TV deal with TNN. "I figured between your dad's money and the TV deal..."

"Paul is too... _combative_...to hold a TV deal," Shane said with a sigh.

"So, does this mean Stephanie is looking to buy ECW?"

"Yeah. She wants to merge the two of us and wage a two-front war."

"Oh." I looked down at my hands. "What do you think?"

"I feel iffy about it," he confessed. "It's hard to trust Stephanie, and when she gets involved with things, it can go from bad to worse in a real hurry. I'm supposed to see her when I get home before I head to the meeting, so I'm going to hear what she has planned there."

"That's nice. No more Invasion talk for tonight, though. No more work talk." He looked at me. I looked into his eyes and reached out to touch his face. He didn't shave today, so there's a little bit of stubble. "It was just a loss last night, Shane. It's okay."

"Noa..."

"I know it's hard for you. You almost had him. But we'll all live to fight another day. You still have your health, your friends, your family, your fans, and little old me, even though I know I'm the reason..."

"No. Stop that." He reached out to brush a strand of hair out of my face. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"Do you think we should just put all our cards on the table with your dad?" I asked. Shane looked stunned.

"We could. I thought you didn't want that?"

"I'm terrified of what your dad is going to do and what he's going to say. But this could take the wind out of Kurt's sails." I shook my head. "I feel like I'm running out of options here. And I know I said I wanted to stay quiet for my career, but I want to be able to hold hands in public with you. It's a little thing, but..."

"I get it. I feel the same way, Noa." He leaned back against the headboard. "If you really want to do this, why don't we do it when I get back from Canada? I'll set up a dinner with the family – Dad's less inclined to blow a gasket if Mom and Steph are there – and we'll just lay all our cards out on the table. Does that sound okay?"

"That sounds fine. It gives me a week to get my nerves under control." Shane moved so I could get into the bed beside him. "I'm not going to lie – it'll feel nice to not have to lie anymore. I mean, it was hot for a while, but it's exhausting."

"I agree with that," he said, draping his arm over my shoulders. I rested my head on his chest. We fell quiet as we watched the rest of the show. But there was definitely a new heaviness that hung in the air between us.


	13. Love Sick

Chapter 13: Love Sick

* * *

I stood with Shane in front of his boarding gate at LaGuardia Airport, struggling to keep composed. The last time I looked at the clock, it said it was a quarter to five in the morning. It's starting to get light outside. In five minutes, Shane is going to be boarding his flight to Toronto. We've been at the airport for hours, and now that it's getting closer to his departure time, I find I'm emotional. I don't want him to go.

He stood in front of me, dressed in a navy blue pinstripe suit with a black button-down shirt underneath, the top two buttons undone. He's freshly shaved, not a hair out of place on his head. I didn't dress up too fancy to see him off; I threw on a baby blue velour tracksuit and threw my hair back into a ponytail to drive him to the airport.

It was a rough night for Shane; he arrived at _SmackDown_ to find himself greeted by his seething father. Shane had come to me after their run-in, shaking with rage as he told me how Vince had torn a strip off him for interfering in the _King of the Ring_ tournament, for costing Kurt Angle his rightful shot at the crown. He accused Shane of "going into business for himself", for blowing Vince's investment. He accused Shane of trying to ruin his business. He demanded to know what possessed Shane to snap the way that he did. Shane told me that he told him it was personal, and he promised me that he left my name out of things.

When I arrived at _SmackDown_ , I was horrified to learn that the story of Kurt attacking me at _King of the Ring_ had spread like wildfire. Nobody from management came to talk to me about the situation, but the big picture seemed to click with everyone. I was at the heart of this street fight, for better or for worse. For once, Trish was the best girlfriend I could ask for, jumping in to interrupt when gossips cornered me with questions.

Every attempt I made to keep my tears at bay was futile; they spilled from my eyes and fell down my cheeks in spite of every effort I made to stay composed. Shane reached out to brush the tears from my eyes with his thumb. "Come on, Noa – you're acting like we're never going to see each other again. Come on – don't cry. It's only going to be for a few days, and I'll be in touch with you every day." I nodded, sniffling and wiping my eyes.

"I know. And I feel ridiculous that I'm acting like this. But...I'm going to miss you," I confessed tearfully. He put his fingers under my chin and made me look into his eyes. It's the longest we've been apart since we've been together, and with everything being so out of hand with Kurt, it's hard to ignore the ominous feeling that's seeping into my bones.

"I'm going to miss you, too, Noa, but I'll be back before you know it. It's not like I'm going to ignore you – I'm going to call you every night. Because I want to," he added quickly. I looked past him, out the window at the cobalt sky that was getting lighter. I wanted to hug him goodbye, but we were surrounded by people and still keeping things secret for now.

"Call me tonight and let me know that you made it all right."

"I will. I promise." He moved to kiss me but realized that there were people around us. He sighed, feeling just as frustrated as me. "One more week and it's out in the open," he assured me. I nodded. He's been better than me at hiding his feelings, but it's beginning to wear on him now that Kurt's been so aggressive.

"Shane..."

"When I get back, you and I are going to have a night in, if you catch my drift," he said in my ear. I felt myself blush, my cheeks feeling like they were on fire. He pulled back and grinned. "I love you, Noa. Stay out of trouble while I'm gone." I had to laugh.

"Me? _You_ stay out of trouble. No Kamikazes?"

"You know, normally the castration starts after marriage," he told me. I shot him a look, stunned that he dropped the m-word. I laughed it off. "I'll keep the drinking to a minimum."

"Liar."

"Does this mean I'm a bad actor?" he asked. I laughed.

"I'd stick to your day job. Whatever that is." Shane laughed.

"I'll have to take that under advisement." He looked at the steward. "I have to go. I'll call you tonight." I nodded. With a quick hug, he left me. I exhaled, the wave of depression hitting me hard enough to leave me breathless. I watched him until he was gone before I began the walk back to the parking lot, keeping my head down and my sunglasses on to keep the fans from approaching. After saying goodbye to him, I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone.

* * *

"Jesus Christ, Noa, you look fucking depressed."

Chris slid into the booth across from me, dressed in his latest T-shirt and blue jeans, his hair back in a low ponytail. In my infinite sadness, I called Chris and asked him to meet for dinner. He was staying in New York an extra day to do some promotion for his side band, Fozzy. I was staying for a day of shopping before catching a red-eye back home. Feeling sorry for me, Chris took me up on my offer. He had found me alone in a corner booth, sniffling into a glass of red wine and munching absently on a bread-stick.

"He only left this morning, Noa. Jesus."

"It's not that."

"Bullshit, Noa. You're an awful liar. Anyone with a working set of eyes can see you're in love with the guy."

"Don't do this..."

"I'm not doing anything, Noa. It's you – you couldn't be more fucking obvious about this." Chris wanted to say more, but he clamped his mouth shut as the waitress approached. She was a young thing in a sleek black dress, with dyed red hair and warm hazel eyes. Chris ordered a pitcher of beer. When she left, he turned his attention back to me. "Rinoa, you've changed. I don't know if you're aware of it, but you have. You're evasive. You're aloof. Just...what the fuck is going on between the two of you? Please don't lie to me."

"Nothing. It's just...everything with Kurt has been so crazy, and it's starting to get to me." I took a big sip of wine and exhaled, feeling guilty once again for lying, feeling guilty that the lie is a reflex now. "Shane feels like he let me down because Kurt beat him at _King of the Ring_. He feels bad, which makes me feel bad. It's a vicious cycle. I just...everything is so messed up right now, and I feel like I'm going crazy."

"I'd be concerned if you didn't feel that way," Chris assured me. "The situation with Kurt is bothering me. Has anything been done about what he did to you?" I shook my head, and Chris let out out a sigh of disgust. Like me, I know that he's disappointed but not surprised at the development.

"Vince accused Shane of going into business for himself. Vince stacked the deck so Kurt would win and Shane blew it all," I said with a sigh. "Nobody from management has come to ask me about what happened. I just...I feel like I'm nothing but trouble for anyone I come into contact with. I'm dragging everyone down. I don't know how to get out of this situation. I'm just...I feel like I'm sinking."

"None of this is your fault, Noa. I honest to God had no idea Kurt was this fucked. I had no idea."

"I know." I took another sip of wine. The waitress arrived with the beer and a glass. She took our order and disappeared. Two fans approached and Chris managed to fend them off, promising photos and autographs after we ate. When they went back to their table, he turned to me.

"Noa, how long have we known each other?" he asked.

"Years. You're like the big brother I never wanted." He nodded.

"I really need some background information here, Rinoa. So please stop lying to me because honesty is going to be the best way to help you. I need to know – are you and Shane fucking around? Is that why you're so depressed he's gone and is that why he attacked Kurt? Because I think it's why he attacked Kurt."

I looked at Chris and felt this huge wave of shame for lying to him for so long. He's someone that I would lay my life down for because I know he'd do the same for me in a heartbeat. He helped me with my career, and in a roundabout way, he brought me to Shane. But he'd also warned me about getting involved with a McMahon. When Shane and I got together, I knew I couldn't go to him. But now, with things getting so out of control...

"We are. We've been together for six months."

"Six months?" Chris was loud. A few people turned to look at us. I covered my face with a hand. Chris realized he had an audience and lowered his tone. "I fucking knew it. I fucking _knew_. Does Vince know?"

"Linda knows. Vince doesn't. We're going to tell him when Shane gets back."

"Why didn't...?"

"We say anything? Because Shane was worried it was going to end my career, and I'm worried about the scandal it's going to cause for Shane. It's why we decided to stay quiet about it, but it's getting harder with Kurt. And I'm so tired of lying, Chris. If Kurt gets any kind of confirmation, he's going to use it to blackmail and exploit us, and things are going to get worse."

"So you're hoping that telling Vince is going to cut him off at the knees." I nodded. "Wow."

"I know, I know. And I know you warned me, and you lectured me and you ranted at me, and we tried. We really did. We tried to ignore the feelings. But we couldn't. I love him, and I think he loves me, and this whole thing with Kurt is eating us alive." I fought back the tears that were springing to my eyes. "My life feels like a mess."

"You should have come to me."

"You were so adamant about me not doing anything. I felt like I couldn't."

"I'm sorry, Noa. I'm sorry you feel like you couldn't come to me. No matter what happens, we're still friends. This doesn't change that. But I wish you would have told me. I know Shane's trying his best to protect you, but he can't do it alone." I nodded. "I'm going to go to Vince and tell him you're dealing with some nagging injuries and get you the next loop off. Vince won't bat an eye for that since his focus is on Trish, Lita, and the Invasion right now. Take care of yourself and get the business out of your mind for a week. While you're gone, I'll make sure Kurt gets the picture."

I nodded, but the thought of Chris dragging Kurt into a back room and beating him senseless sent chills down my spine. I hated hearing Chris talk like this; the Chris Jericho I know is not a violent guy; he's the life of the party. Hearing Chris adopt such an old-school mentality alarmed me.

"Okay," I whispered, unsure of what to say.

"I knew it, Noa. I've always known. I always see the way he looks at you. I saw how he always had to be the one to tell you things, how the two of you would light up around each other. I just...I fucking knew it."

"Chris..."

"What did I tell you when you signed your contract, Rinoa?"

I sighed. "You told me getting involved with a McMahon is a recipe for disaster. I know, and I tried..."

"I'm not trying to make things harder for you, Noa, but level with me – where do you see this going? Do you think he's going to marry you? Do you think you're going to get the white picket fence and the kids and the dog?"

"I don't know. He doesn't, either. We're just trying to see where things go from here. But it's hard to think about much outside of the Kurt situation these days." The hardened glint in Chris's eyes disappeared, and his look became sympathetic.

"I'm sorry, Noa. I don't mean to freak out. I'm not even sure why I'm reacting like this because I've kind of known deep down for a while now..." We fell silent as the waitress arrived with our pasta; tortellini for me, spaghetti and meatballs for Chris. While we ate, we talked about music, I think because he could sense that I couldn't take any more discussions about Kurt Angle and work. After, we stayed for half an hour taking photographs with everyone from the staff to patrons. By the time I made it back to the hotel I was so exhausted I flopped back onto the bed and napped for an hour before I got up to pack my things and catch my flight.


	14. An Omen?

Chapter 14: An Omen?

* * *

When I signed my contract with WCW, the first big purchase I made was on a little house in Sacramento, California. Owning my first home was such a big deal, and it was one of the happiest days of my life when I got the keys. I spend so much time traveling, but having a home base makes me feel a little more even. It's a beautiful little house, with two floors and a spiral staircase that leads up to a loft bedroom.

I don't know what Chris said to Vince, but he gave the okay for me to take the taping loop off. It wasn't a lie that I was in pain, but it's no worse than any other wrestler. We live every day in pain, thanks to all the bumps we take. After a while, I just got used to it. I told Shane I had the time off, so he volunteered to fly out to Sacramento when the meeting was over to come see the house. He told me the concept of a Canadian ambassador program was well-received, but there were still more arrangements to be made, more details to be discussed.

It's always a treat to wake up in my own bed; getting a chance to do it every day this week was an even bigger bonus. With a life that's far from normal, sometimes it's the little, mundane things that I enjoy. Waking up in my own bed, making breakfast in my kitchen, doing dishes. It feels like my life is stuck in the throes of insanity, so it's nice to just go home and enjoy the peace and quiet.

When I'm not out in the ring, performing for fifteen thousand people at a time, I live a quiet life. Pro wrestlers are almost on par with rock stars these days, so I don't go out much. When I'm home, I cook for myself, bake for myself. I have a home gym in the basement and a big collection of movies. There are people in the neighborhood that know where I live, and every now and then I get greeted with people looking for autographs, mostly children. I usually send them out with anything that I've baked.

I got out of bed on a beautiful morning and changed into some black jogging pants and a pink muscle shirt. Whenever I'm off, I always start my day with a jog at the beach down the block. While I ran, I thought about everything I wanted to do with Shane while he was here, the sights I wanted to show him and the things I wanted to cook for him.

Telling Chris about Shane and I lifted a giant weight off my shoulders. Chris has been on me about finding a guy and settling down for a while now, but he didn't want me to get involved with one of the boys, and I kind of agreed. I've seen firsthand in WCW that some of the guys come with a lot of baggage. Chris had kind of given me the scared straight talk, and I've never been naive enough to think I could change someone.

The life I had with my ex feels like another lifetime now. He still calls from time to time to tell me that he's seen me on TV, that he's proud of me, but I find his opinion doesn't matter as much as it used to. If he had shown a fraction of the support he's shown me since we broke up, we'd probably still be together. These days, I ignore his messages and I screen his calls and e-mails. It's been on my list of things to do to change my phone number, but it feels like I never have the time to do it. With the week off, I realized I could do it anytime, I supposed.

I stopped midway across the beach to look out at the water. Our time is so limited when we travel that it's hard sometimes to get to really take in all the sights. I wanted to show Shane everything I loved about Sacramento. Every great thought I had was spliced with thoughts of how angry Vince is going to be at the next loop of tapings. But I'd be naive to think that I could keep things hidden with Shane forever. There's been whispers and rumors about the two of us for a long time now, and it feels like more people are figuring things out. It's time to go to Vince before someone else does. Before someone like Kurt does.

When I got home, I had a quick shower and changed into a knee-length blue sundress before going out to run my errands. I wanted to pick up a few things so I wouldn't have to leave the house when Shane arrived.

I had one foot out the door when the phone rang. I rushed to it, hoping it was Shane. "Hello?"

There was nothing on the other end. For a few seconds, I listened, and once it became clear there was nothing on the other end, I hung up, shaking my head. The phone rang again ten seconds later. "Hello?"

This time I could hear something, but I couldn't make out what it was, but it was almost like a slapping noise. I could hear the faint muffle of a TV set, but I couldn't say what was on it. There was still silence. "Hello?" Once again, there was nothing. I hung up, irritated.

Thirty seconds later, the phone rang. This time I was irritated. "Hello?" I asked firmly.

"Hey, Noa!"

The dark feeling in my bones dissolved. "Hey, Shane!" I sat down on the couch. "How's your day going?"

"Great. I'm just on my way to a lunch meeting, so I wanted to call and see how you're doing."

"Good. I'm just getting ready to head to the store."

"Getting anything good?"

"Probably. When are you coming in?"

"I should be in at about five-thirty on Thursday. I can't wait to tell you all about this program we've got set up. I think we've got something set up really good here."

"That's great." We were quiet for a moment.

"It's not the same not having you around, Noa. I miss you."

"I miss you, too."

"Next time, you're coming out with me. I'm not going to take no for an answer."

"I don't think I'm going to turn it down next time," I confessed with a laugh.

"I got you something."

"Oh, you didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to."

"What is it?"

"If I told you that, it would kill the surprise."

"That's not fair."

"I never said I was fair," he said with a laugh. "I hate to cut the call short, but I've got to go to the meeting. I just wanted to hear your voice. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay. I'll see you soon." We said our goodbyes and I hung up. I was already in a good mood, but I found myself in a better mood after the call. Shane has this uncanny ability to make every day feel bright and special. I sat for a moment, wondering what he could have possibly got me before I decided to go to the store. The phone rang again on my way out, and I had a sneaking suspicion that it was that mystery caller once again, so I just let it go to the answering machine, and I left.


	15. Darkness

_Dark Content warning._

* * *

Chapter 15: Darkness

* * *

I don't think anyone ever wakes up with the knowledge something bad is going to happen.

Nobody wakes up on the last day of their lives knowing it's their last day; nobody wakes up with the foresight that they will be in a car accident or they will be mugged or become the victim of some kind of crime. I know that I could go back in time for the rest of my life and try to pick out something that felt ominous, but I know deep down I'd never find it. The day before Shane was set to touch down in Sacramento felt like any other day. It was a typical southern California day in the summer, nice and sunny with a blue sky and no clouds to be seen.

I woke up that morning, excited. Shane was going to be touching down in twenty-four hours, and I had movie marathons and long walks on the beach planned. I had breakfasts, lunches and dinners planned. He had no idea, but I filled his schedule to the brim until it was time for the two of us to go back on the road again. I even scheduled a dinner before we left where we could talk about just how on Earth we planned on broaching the subject with Vince.

Tonight's WWF show is in Las Vegas, one state over. Chris called this morning; he seemed antsy. I asked him how things went, and he told me that he was teaming up with Mark to take care of things at the show tonight. I begged him to be safe. Chris knows that I'm upset that he's taking such an old school approach, but at this point I'm desperate. But I don't want to go to Vince. I've gotten so tangled in the McMahon web, and I have no idea how to navigate waters this choppy. I wished Chris good luck and made him promise to send my best to Mark and Trish, and then he hung up.

I could tell Chris was nervous about pulling Kurt aside. His voice had been shaky, and he seemed really nervous. Chris is Canadian; he's not a violent guy by nature. No matter how clear I was making it, Kurt wasn't getting the picture; in this situation, I've been grateful to have so many people looking out for me. But the idea of Chris getting violent...I know a piece of him is going to die; it's hard to foresee how much this is going to change him, but I only hope it's not for the worst.

Mark is an old-school guy. He's the guy who firmly believes in handshakes and respect and paying dues. I wouldn't be surprised if I learned he'd dragged one of the boys into the back room before. He's a professional, through and through, but he won't put up with anyone getting out of line.

I tried to push what they were going to do out of my mind, and I focused instead on cleaning up the house and making sure everything was in order for Shane's arrival tomorrow. While I worked, I was surprised by a text message from Trish. We talked about Shane's presentation, about the nagging back injury excuse Chris used to get me the week off. She asked what my game plan was, and it honestly just involved popcorn, some pop, and some scary movies. It was so beautiful outside that I opened all the doors and windows and let the beautiful breeze into the house.

While I cleaned, I put on some music – Janet Jackson's _All For You –_ and I danced and sang off-key, waving my hair from side to side. I'd already gone for a jog and made a batch of chocolate chip cookies to fill my cookie jar. The dishes were done, and I'd even managed to get a little gardening done. I wanted everything to be perfect. It's the first time Shane has come to my home, and I want to make sure everything is just right.

While my bedding was in the wash and my laundry in the dryer, I closed up the house and took a shower. I took a while, just enjoying the hot water on my muscles. By the time I got out of the shower, the room was fogged and I couldn't see anything in the mirror.

* * *

After my movie night, I went to bed but found that I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned for forty-five minutes before I decided to go back to the couch and watch another movie. It was getting close to midnight, but my mind was nowhere near ready to slow down so I could rest.

I grabbed a can of Diet Coke from the fridge and grabbed the bowl of dill pickle popcorn off the counter before retreating back to the living room to find a movie to watch. I wondered if Shane was awake if he would want to talk, but when I tried calling him an hour ago to say goodnight, it went right to his voicemail. He hasn't called back yet, but I assume he's out with some associates, probably drinking them under the table.

Telling Vince that the two of us are in a relationship opens a big door for the two of us, with questions I'm not sure I want to know the answers to. I know Vince is going to ask us where we see things going. I don't know if Shane would ever want to marry me; if he's the kind of guy to want the house with the white picket fence and the kids and the dog. There's a very real fear of how he's going to react, of how Shane is going to handle things, and where I'm going to fall into things. I wondered what the aftermath was going to be of Mark and Chris laying waste to Kurt. I've got nothing to do with any of that, and I feel dirty.

I settled under the thermal blanket with _Freddy's Dead: The Final Nightmare_ , with the 3D glasses on the coffee table when the time came.

It didn't take me long to realize there was a chill in the house. I got off the couch, wrapping my fleecy pink blanket around my frame. I took a look around the house; the windows were closed. I came downstairs and went into the kitchen to make sure I didn't forget to close a window.

Walking into the kitchen, I was floored when my eyes fell on the back door. It was wide open. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach because I knew I shut the door when I went to have a shower. I walked to the door cautiously, shutting it and locking it, both the bottom lock and the dead-bolt. With a shiver, I readjusted my blanket and went back to the living room.

I was two steps through the arch when the arm went around my neck. It was a thick, muscular arm, covered with a black sweater. I opened my mouth to scream, but a gloved hand clamped over my mouth. I was pulled back into a rock hard body. I was suddenly tangled in the blanket, struggling with everything I had to get out of his grip, but his other arm was around my waist. I was getting shushed, but he wasn't saying anything. The only thing I knew was that the grip didn't belong to Shane.

I was dragged towards the stairs, but I kept struggling. I refused to go up the stairs, shifting and pivoting, forcing him to struggle to keep his balance. His hand shifted and I bit down into the glove. He yelped. I made a beeline for the front door, but he was on me in a flash, lifting me up over his shoulder as if I didn't weigh anything. I kept struggling and I began shouting for help. I must have caught him with a knee in his sternum, because he angrily threw me over the couch, a careless throw. I fell over the couch awkwardly, cracking my head on the coffee table hard before my body folded like an accordion between the couch and the table. I heard a crunch and a pop in my neck; there was heat, and then my body went numb. It was a terrifying feeling. I couldn't move, with a home invader inside my house.

He came around and threw the coffee table over. Soda, popcorn, and knickknacks were strewn everywhere. I heard something shatter, and I was pretty sure it was my scented candle. I wanted to move away, but my body was paralyzed. Like a shark smelling blood, he was on me. He was still silent, but his breathing was heavy, and it was very obvious he was excited about the struggle. I opened my mouth to scream as he lay on top of me, but he clamped a hand over my mouth. He outweighed me, and with my strength slowly returning, I was too hurt to move.

Moving his hand, his lips covered mine. I tried to get a look at his eyes, but everything felt like it was a blur. I knew what was about to happen, but there was nothing I could do to fight; my fingers were tingling, and I had very little strength. "Please leave," I pleaded, my voice barely a whisper. I was aware of the soda seeping into my hair and the tears on my cheeks. "I won't tell anyone. Please just go."

There were some adjustments, and then I could feel him pushing into me. The popcorn crunched beneath us. There was a numbing pain that shot down my arms. I couldn't move. It was awful, and it felt like it went on forever, when I'm sure it was only a few minutes. Hot, nauseous, I had to turn my head and throw up, screaming in agony at the burn in my neck when I turned my head.

When it was over, he kissed my forehead and stood He made no effort to pull my nightgown back down. He overturned my couch and moved through the house, smashing things. It hurt to cringe, but I couldn't help it every time I heard something shatter. He was ransacking my house while I lay paralyzed on the ground.

Then, he was gone. While the Iggy Pop music played over the end credits, he walked out of the front door, closing it behind him. I said nothing; I could do nothing. The screen flashed and then there was a thick, frightening silence when the menu clicked on and stayed there.

* * *

I don't know how long I lay on the floor, covered in popcorn, soda, and vomit. Exhausted, defeated, and in the worst pain I've ever been in, I just lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling. It hurt too much to move; I was terrified that my neck was broken. The only silver lining was that I had feeling in my legs and my arms, even if I couldn't seem to make them move. Something was very, very wrong, and the worst part in all of it is that I didn't have the strength to crawl to the phone and call for help.

The thought of Shane finding me like this made me want to be sick again. A fresh wave of tears fell at the idea of Shane coming in for a romantic night to find me laying like this. I stared up at the ceiling, trying my best to stay in position, wishing the floor would just open underneath me and swallow me whole. I wanted to disappear. Outside the sun was beginning to rise; the sky was getting lighter. It was coming in through the windows.

There was a knock on the door. I opened my mouth to speak, but could only groan. For the past few hours, I haven't been able to do anything more than squeeze my hands together and cry at the pain. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't find my voice. There was more knocking, and then a ringing of the doorbell, but I couldn't do anything. I've never felt more useless and helpless in my life.

Then, the front door opened. "Rinoa...Jesus fucking Christ."

I knew the voice. It was a thick Texas drawl, and I knew it was Steve. He was by my side in seconds, adjusting the nightgown so I was covered. "What the fuck happened?"

"I need help. I'm hurt." My voice sounded broken in my ears. He moved to help me sit up. "No, no, no! My neck. I don't know if it's broken, but I can't move. Please." My voice cracked. "Help me."

"Where's your phone?"

"Cordless is in the kitchen." Steve rushed to the kitchen. He came back, on the phone with 911. He sat down beside me and took my hand in his. He stayed on the phone with dispatch while I whimpered beside him. There was a swell of relief when I heard the sirens. Steve hung up the phone when he heard them approaching.

"What happened?"

"Home invasion." It struck me how calm I sounded, but I knew it was the shock taking over. The sirens were getting louder. "What are you doing here?"

"I got a call from Shane. I was in LA. He said he had a bad feeling. He told me to come here. I'm glad I did." I was surprised he made the drive; Los Angeles to Sacramento is almost a six-hour drive.

"Thank you." I burst into tears. It was only moments later that I heard the ambulance pull into the driveway. Steve left me to direct them to where I lay, barking at them to watch my neck.


	16. Into the Light

Chapter 16: Into the Light

* * *

Steve stayed with me, getting into the back of the ambulance with me, holding my hand all the way to the hospital while the paramedics did everything they could to keep my neck stabilized. He offered words of encouragement, words that felt hollow because I didn't tell him the ugly details. I remained silent, thankful just to have a familiar face in all of this madness. I felt torn; I wished Shane was with me, but the idea of facing him, with the knowledge of what happened, felt unbearable. Lying on the gurney, inside the ambulance, the thought of him not being able to look at me the same hit me like a bolt. I shut my eyes and wished that I was having a nightmare. But it was all too real.

When we arrived at the hospital, I was immediately sent to X-rays to figure out what kind of damage had been inflicted, and what kind of surgery I would need to correct it. It was there I found out my C4 was fractured and the C5 had slipped. The tech disappeared for what felt like forever before coming back to tell me that they were getting the operating room ready for surgery.

While I waited for them to get the room ready, I was wheeled into another room where a cheerful young nurse named Rochelle was ready to administer the rape kit. She had dishwater blonde hair and warm brown eyes, and she spoke softly. I lay still, wincing but silent, while she did what she had to do. She tried to make small talk – she even mentioned that her sons were fans of the WWF – but the fact that she knew who I was made me feel even worse than I thought I could feel. She offered her sympathy, and I wished for the floor to open like a sinkhole and swallow me whole. Before I lost my temper and found the urge to scream, it was over, and I was getting wheeled into surgery. Steve was the last person I saw before I went through the doors.

* * *

I woke up in a private hospital room, and I was immediately aware of the neck brace and the pungent smell of roses in my nostrils, a stark contrast to the smell of hospital disinfectant. I was very aware of my hand being held, but I couldn't turn my head; the brace on my neck left me looking forward.

"Welcome back to the world, beautiful." I shut my eyes.

Shane.

He came into view, brushing a strand of disgusting hair out of my face. The sadness and sympathy shone in his eyes, and it took everything for me to keep from hiding underneath the blanket. I noticed his eyes looked a little swollen, his face a little red. He gave me a tight smile and I offered one back to him, even though I knew I looked and felt awful. He sat down and grabbed the cup of ice chips. I opened my mouth and let him place one on my tongue. We were quiet for a few moments while I enjoyed the feeling of the ice water in my throat.

Shane cleared his throat. "Your mom and dad are going to be here at about seven-thirty tonight."

"What do they know?"

"There was a home invasion, and you're still alive and kicking. That's it."

"Thank you." We fell quiet again.

"I'm sorry. I should have been here."

"It's not your fault."

"I should have taken you with me. I should not have taken no for an answer."

"Don't do this to yourself," I told him with a sigh. "Neither of us foresaw _this_." I know he wanted to ask me so many questions, but I also know that he wanted to let me rest. I knew there was going to be plenty of time to relive everything over and over again in the coming weeks. "This isn't your fault. At all."

"They're keeping you tonight for observation. They are going to release you tomorrow, barring any complications," Shane told me. "When you get discharged, I want you to come back to New York with me."

"Shane..." I sighed. The truth was that I couldn't go back home. My sanctuary had been violated, my dream house tainted. I knew that I would never be able to walk through the living room without thinking about what happened. Sleeping alone in the house would be out of the question. I'd never feel safe in my home ever again.

"If you're worried about Dad, Noa, he knows about us." I wanted to look at him, but I couldn't move my neck. "I called him and told him as soon as the plane landed. He's wrapping up some business in Nevada, and then he's on his way here to see you. He's worried about you. I know you might not be up for it, but he wants to see you, and he probably wants to talk to us."

"I figured." I didn't feel like doing anything, but I knew this was something that had to be done. "We may as well get that talk over with." He took my hand and squeezed it. We were quiet. "You know."

"Yeah. The nurse told me. We'll get through it, Noa. Together." He squeezed my hand and the tears that had been behind my eyes only seconds before spilled over. He leaned over with his handkerchief in hand, dabbing the tears from my eyes. "Whatever we have to do, we'll do it. And I'll be there every step of the way, okay?" I know he wanted to hug me, but with the brace and the position I was in, it was awkward. "I'll head to the house tonight and pack some things while you're visiting with your parents. Dad's going to fly out with us tomorrow and let us use the jet. If your mom and Dad want to come with us to New York, the offer's open. There's plenty of room at my place." I was surprised; I've never been on Vince's plane. It's usually the top-tier guys that fly with him on there from time to time.

There was a knock on the door. Shane stood. "Am I interrupting anything?"

Vince.

"No. Come on in." Shane sat down, and Vince rounded the bed so that I could see him. He was dressed in a pair of khakis and a taupe button-down T-shirt. In his hand, he held a bouquet of chrysanthemums and carnations. Vince looked at me, his expression one of sympathy and pity.

"Hello, Rinoa. How are you feeling?"

"My neck feels better than it did." That was the only thing I could say about the situation. He sat down in the chair across from Shane, the three of us alone in the room, with Vince fully aware that Shane and I are together. To say there was awkwardness in the air would be the understatement of the century.

"I wish I knew what to say, Rinoa," Vince started. "I'm glad you're all right, but that seems like a bad thing to say."

"It's okay. I get it. I get what you mean."

"If we can help in any way, especially with the investigation, let me know, okay?"

"Thank you, Vince." We fell quiet.

"I know you've been through a lot, Rinoa, and I know this is the worst possible time, but I think the three of us have some important matters to discuss." I heard Shane sigh in aggravation.

"Dad..."

"It's okay, Shane." I licked my dry lips. "We may as well put all our cards on the table now."

"Okay, Noa. But you say the word, and we drop this subject." I could feel the stare Shane was giving Vince.

"How long has this been going on for?" Vince blurted, and I knew right away that he had been thinking about that since Shane came clean. I made a mental note to ask Shane about the phone call when I felt a little more talkative. I'm not sure I've ever wanted to be a fly on the wall for something more in my life.

"Not as long as you think," Shane answered. I think it was an unspoken but accepted fact between the three of us that Shane was going to be doing most of the talking, while I lay in the bed between them wondering how everything went sideways so fast. This wasn't the way I envisioned telling Vince. At all.

"Six months. Almost seven," I answered bluntly.

"Shane..." Vince started, but he was harshly silenced by Shane.

"No. No. You get to say nothing about this. Not with Stephanie married to Hunter, and not after the other women. Not after Trish," he pointed out. "You don't have to like any part of this, but it's the way it is."

"All I'm going to say is that this could be seen as a problem. Rinoa, your whole career could potentially have a star next to it. I had this same talk with Paul. In the interest of fairness, I'm going to have it with you, too. You'll get it harsher. People might label you a gold-digger."

"Dad..." Shane was almost growling.

"Shane. He's right." My voice was soft. "It's why I chose not to say anything. But we should have. From the start, we should have put all of our cards on the table. I don't know why we didn't. Maybe because I wasn't sure where it was going. Mostly because I was scared. But things could have been different if I'd just said something..." My voice cracked; I surprised myself by crying.

"What is she talking about?" Vince asked. Shane sighed.

"Noa's been having trouble with Kurt Angle for months now. He's been harassing her. Stalking her. The whole nine yards. It's been getting out of hand."

"How long has this been going on for?" Vince asked.

"Late last year," I confessed.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because she was afraid for her job," Shane said angrily. I could feel Vince looking at me, and I nodded. "Because Kurt is the big draw, the Olympic gold medallist." His tone was so cynical, it surprised even me.

"Do you love her, Shane?" he asked.

"With everything I've got." I felt a flutter in my chest; he didn't even hesitate with his answer. Vince looked at me.

"I feel the same."

"I see. I think I need some air." Vince stood. He moved to the foot of the bed, into my line of sight. "I'll be back in a little bit. You get some rest, all right."

"I will." Vince gave Shane a clap on the shoulder on his way out. The two of us were quiet. I began to cry.

"It's okay. It doesn't seem like it now, but everything will be okay. With Dad, with everything. I don't know how to make that happen just yet, but I'll find a way, okay?" I wanted to nod, but I couldn't. I wanted to believe him so badly, but I couldn't. I just couldn't.


	17. Leaving California

_**Just a small note - thank you so much. Three reviews for the last chapter. I know to some that's not much, but it means the world to me. Getting back into writing after the year I've had has been pretty hard, so it means a lot. Thank you all.**_

* * *

Chapter 17: Leaving California

* * *

When visiting hours were finished for the day, Shane and my parents left me at the hospital, with Shane heading over to the house to pack my bags for New York. He asked if there was anything specific I wanted to bring, but I couldn't think of anything off the top of my head. Shane stayed until he received word that the police had released my home, and I had to warn him what he was going to see when he walked in. The thought of what he's going to see makes me sick, knowing he would be walking through my home – a crime scene – with the floor covered in vomit, popcorn, and soda. It was really hard to tell him what he was going to see, but somehow I managed to do it. He promised me he would be okay, but I'm not sure that I believe him. But he didn't want me to go back to the house until I feel ready to do it. I don't know if that day will ever come.

I didn't sleep; it was impossible to sleep with the brace and the position I was in. Instead, I lay awake, staring straight ahead, wondering if this nightmare is going to end up defining me, if the injury is enough to end my career just as it was taking off. All night my mind ran away with me, going to every worst case scenario I could think of.

In the morning – I have no idea what time it was, but the sun had risen – the doctor confirmed that I was going to be released from the hospital. Shane called and I found out it was after eight, and he would be there to pick me up at eleven, but he was making some last-minute travel arrangements with Vince. He mentioned Mom and Dad were going to come and stay with us for a couple days, just until they felt confident that I was settled in. I wasn't sure how I felt about that.

The nurse came in with sweatpants and a shirt, left late last night by Shane. I had her help me get changed. When I was in normal clothing again, I went to the receptionist desk to sign the release papers and cut myself loose. I hate hospitals; I didn't want to be in there any longer than I had to be. I never thought I'd see the day, but I wanted to put as much distance between myself and Sacramento as I could. This is my home, a city I fell in love with so long ago, but now it hurts too much to stay. While I signed the papers, I realized that Shane and I were about to be tested, with my turbulent mental state and the fact that the two of us have never lived together before. I'm not sure how things are going to go.

"Hey. Sorry we're late, sweetheart. Had to take out some trash."

I turned to see Mark and Chris approaching me, and it would have been an understatement to say that I was surprised to see them. Mark was dressed like he was ready to go to the ring, head to toe in denim, with his bandana and sunglasses. Chris was dressed in a black button-down shirt with the top three buttons undone and blue jeans, his hair pulled back into a low ponytail. I could see the sadness, the fear, and concern shining in his eyes. Mark's lips pursed into a thin line, and I knew it was because of the brace.

"Jesus, you look like hell, Noa," Chris said with a sigh. I shot him a look.

"Gee, thanks a lot." I signed the last of the paperwork before I took my place with them.

"Is there a place we can talk, Killer?" Mark asked.

"We can head outside," I told them. "Shane should be here to pick me up soon." The three of us began walking towards the sliding glass doors that would take us outside to the emergency entrance.

"Noa..."

"I'm gathering Shane told you guys everything."

"Not the ugly details. Just that you got hurt, and the police have no leads," Chris told me.

"I don't have much confidence they'll find any leads," I said with a sigh. We walked through the sliding glass doors and moved to the side. I leaned against the wall. "Whoever it was knew what they were doing. Gloves, masks, everything. And I know how defeatist it sounds, but...I don't even know." I sighed again. "What are you guys even doing here? I thought you were in Vegas."

"Vince had the meeting and told all of us what happened to you. We couldn't make it out right away, but as soon as we were done with media, Chris and I were on the road," Mark told me. I was touched. "Vince tells me that you're going to be staying with Shane." I wasn't at all surprised that Vince told Mark; the two of them had a strong rapport that most promoters only dream of having with their employees. I looked at Chris, who didn't appear to be surprised by the development.

"Yeah. There's a gag order, though. Nobody's supposed to say anything about where I've gone. Shane and I have decided that we don't want Kurt finding out. It's only going to make things worse." Mark and Chris looked at each other. I sighed, exasperated. "Out with it, you two. No more lies, no more secrets. It's done none of us any good, and I'm done with it. What's with the look?"

Chris sighed. "We didn't get a shot to deal with Kurt in Vegas. He didn't show."

"What?"

"Family emergency or something. Vince is trying to verify it with family members, but he hasn't been able to reach anyone yet," Mark confessed. I thought about Chris's phone call that morning, how anxious he had sounded.

"Is that why you were so antsy on the phone?" I asked. He didn't have to answer. "Great. Just fucking great."

"I didn't want to worry you," he told me quickly. "Besides, we thought he had no idea where you lived."

"You thought?" I asked. Mark sighed.

"We were here late last night, but visiting hours were over," he told me. "As we were leaving the hospital, we found Shane ready to brawl with Kurt out here in the parking lot." My eyes got wide. There were no words sufficient enough to describe the terror I felt.

"Kurt was here? Why was he here? How did he find out? How did he know I was here?"

"It's no secret you're here, Noa. Someone could have told him," Chris assured me.

"Why...?" I started, but Mark cut me off.

"I'm sorry, Noa, but neither of us thought to ask him as we were hauling his ass out of here. We decided since he showed up that we were going to take the opportunity to deal with him."

"What did you do to him?" I asked softly. Part of me didn't want to know, but my sense of morbid curiosity won out before I could stop myself. Mark and Chris crossed their arms in unison; if I had been in a better frame of mind, I would have commented on how funny I found it.

Mark shook his head. "Oh, no. We're not saying a word about it, Killer. It's gonna stay between the three of us. If anything comes back, we want you innocent. You've been through enough."

"How's your neck?" he asked.

"Broken." Chris sighed. "I know. Looks like I'll be out awhile."

"How long?"

"I don't know." I noticed that he was having trouble looking me in the eyes, but I didn't want to call him out on it. "I'll be back before you know it. As soon as they tell me I can start rehab, I'll be in there every day. It's probably for the best; this is probably the most time off I've had since I started wrestling."

"If you need anything, I want you to call me, okay?" Mark informed me. Chris nodded.

"Me, too."

"Thanks." I saw a car, a red convertible, pull into the parking lot. Shane was in the driver's seat, with my parents in the back. The passenger's seat was empty, and I knew that's where I was going to be sitting on the drive to the airport. I sighed and turned back to the guys. "I hate to cut this short, but it looks like this is my ride."

"Call us when you make it to New York. Let us know you made it okay," Chris told me. Mark nodded.

"I will. I promise." Chris moved to hug me but stopped in his tracks when I stiffened at him in my space. It was nothing against him; I just didn't want to be touched. I think it was that moment where he realized what the attack entailed because the look in his eyes changed. We said our goodbyes, and I got in the car. Shane promised them he would look after me. I watched them walk to their car in the rear-view mirror until Shane turned out of the parking lot.

* * *

I've never smoked a cigarette in my life, but today was one of those days where I really entertained the thought of buying a pack and having one to cope with the stress and anxiety I felt.

The ride to the airport was quiet. Mom and Shane made small talk about the weather in New York, about The World and what it took to run a restaurant. I stayed silent, looking out the window at the road ahead, cycling through feelings of disgust, rage, sadness, and confusion. My imagination ran wild on the drive to the airport, thinking about everything that Mark and Chris must have done to Kurt. I didn't tell Shane that I knew Kurt had stopped by the hospital, only because I felt too weak and exhausted to broach the subject with him.

I'd had that feeling during the attack, the same sinking and slimy feeling I get whenever Kurt is in my personal space. There was an awful thought that crossed my mind, that somehow he was behind it, but I'd written it off, telling myself that he was in Las Vegas, working the main event of the house show. Mark and Chris's revelation that he wasn't there, that nobody in his family had yet verified that he was with them, left me feeling chilled. As far as I know, he has no idea where I live. If he did, I imagine he would have been at my home already, hammering me for that stupid date night.

Walking through the airport, fans approached, asking what happened to me, what happened to my neck. I couldn't speak, so I let Shane handle everything. Some fans still wanted autographs and pictures, but Shane was firm. We made a beeline towards the tarmac, and it wasn't until I was on the plane that I felt myself loosen up a little bit. I buckled my seat-belt and leaned back against the seat.

"Here, Noa. I think you could use this."

I looked at the drink in front of my face. Shane had one of his own. He sat down in the seat beside me. "Your dad keeps liquor on the plane?" I asked. Shane shook his head.

"Not normally, but he figured under the circumstances we could all use one."

"What's the poison?"

"Jack." I took a sip and winced. He buckled his seat-belt. I wanted to ask him about Kurt, but I wanted there to be some privacy. Not that my issues with Kurt were a secret to anyone on the plane, but it was something I felt like I needed to talk to him privately about.

We all got ourselves settled in, and the plane began to move. I stared out the window as we moved upwards, until Sacramento, my home, was reduced to shapes and dots in my view.


	18. Heart to Heart

Chapter 18: Heart to Heart

* * *

"Were you ever going to tell me about Kurt stopping by the hospital?"

Shane turned to me, his eyes wide as if he had heard a gunshot outside. The sun was beginning to set, the orange and pink sky coming in through the giant window, illuminating the dim living room with fading daylight. Our plane landed four hours ago, and once all of our things were settled, Mom and Dad decided to go out and see the sights and pick up something for dinner on the way back. Between the hospital, their worry, and the plane, Mom and Dad were feeling pretty stir-crazy by the time the plane landed. They invited me, but I didn't want to go out in public. Shane volunteered to stay behind, in case I needed anything, to the surprise of absolutely nobody. It's been a quiet few hours between the two of us, more silence than words, but the thought of Kurt at the hospital, of he and Shane picking up where they had left off at _King of the Ring_ , was fresh in my mind.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Shane leaned against the high white wall by the modern staircase that led to the bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. I sat on the couch across from him, leaned back against the leather. He sighed. "I've been thinking about it," he confessed. "But you've been through a lot the past forty-eight hours. I didn't want to add any more to your plate. You've been through enough."

"Shane..."

"What do you want to know?" he asked, knowing full well that I wasn't going to let the subject die.

"I want to know what happened." He got off the wall, walking towards the couch.

"You want to know what happened? Here's what happened - I dropped your clothes off. I was hoping to see you and personally give them to you, but the nurse was being downright awful. She kept telling me that she would make sure that you got them, but that visiting hours were over. I tried everything I could to see you - I even tried to bribe her, but it didn't work - she wasn't having any of it." I had to smile at the image of Shane trying to bribe a nurse who didn't care who he was or what he was worth.

"So I left her the PJs, and I walked out of the hospital and saw him approaching. He had flowers. I wanted to know what the hell he was doing there, and he told me he was there to see you. I told him to stay away from you, and he told me to make him. And I was about to, but Chris and Mark showed up. There was no fight; those two dragged him away and I went to my car and went back to your place to pack." He sighed. "I wasn't going to keep it a secret or anything - there was just nothing to tell. And I just wanted you to get settled and have time to process things first."

"Has your dad been able to verify if he was in Pittsburgh?" I asked.

"Do you think he's behind this?" he asked, and I realized that he was entertaining the same thought.

"I don't know," I said with a sigh. "I couldn't make out anything in the dark. The guy was dressed head to toe in black. But I mean...Kurt was there, in Sacramento. I mean...that's a whole other coast to fly. None of him being at the hospital makes any sense."

"You're right. It doesn't." He sat down at the other end of the couch. We fell quiet. I sighed.

"You were right. You were always right, Shane. As soon as we had an idea that we wanted to be exclusive, we should have just gone public."

"I don't think that would have solved any of your problems with him, Noa, and I think you know that, too." It was his turn to sigh. "You wanted to protect yourself. I wanted to protect you. I can't say our motives were anything but pure in all of this, and I can't say that I wouldn't have wanted to do the same thing in your shoes. Because it's all out now, and we both know that your career is going to get painted with a different brush, for better or worse, whether we like it or not.

"I know that for the foreseeable future, we're both going to be looking for red flags and thinking about all the things we should have done or should have said, but we've got to fight the urge to do that, Noa. Because we'll drive ourselves crazy." He sighed. "I know it's easier said than done - I've been doing it ever since I got the call from Steve." He shook his head. "That was the worst call of my life."

"I can't believe he made the drive."

"He kicked up a bit of a fuss, but I knew he'd do it in the end." We fell silent.

"Chris called you and told you that Kurt wasn't in Vegas, didn't he?"

"Yeah. And I panicked, but Chris and I convinced ourselves that he had no possible way of knowing where you lived. I mean, Sacramento is a big place. I figured if he knew where you lived, then he would have been a presence on your doorstep already." It was hard to fault his logic because I've had the same pattern of thought. "I was in the air, and there was nothing I could do, and that's the worst feeling. I was a little worried, but it got worse the closer I got to Sacramento. That's when I called Steve because the feeling was so strong it made me sick." He shook his head. "I should have done more than that, though. I should have taken you with me. I should have called the police..."

"For what? A funny feeling?"

"I feel like I left you..."

"No. This was not your fault. I was at home. Where I was supposed to be safe." My voice cracked. I struggled to compose myself so I could finish what I had to say. "If I'm not safe at home, where the hell am I safe?" I sighed. "I know for a fact I locked the kitchen door and the windows up before I went for my afternoon shower. I didn't even notice it open when I went to make popcorn. I didn't hear anything, nothing felt off. Everything felt normal until I went to the kitchen and saw the door open."

"Do you keep a spare key outside?" he asked.

"No. Nothing like that. I figured for all the days I spend on the road, having a spare key outside just feels like a bad idea." Shane nodded. "You think that's how he got in."

"I don't know what I think. But there were no broken windows, the doors don't look disturbed. I looked at all of that when I went to pack your things." Something flickered in his eyes, and I knew that being inside the house, with my living room torn apart the way it was, had been an ordeal for him. "I had to check."

"Thank you for going in and getting some things. I know it must have been hard."

"I didn't want you to do it," he told me. He flashed me a warm smile, a smile that I loved so much. We fell quiet.

"So if your dad wasn't calling to tell you he verified Kurt's whereabouts...what did he call for?"

"We've been invited to dinner tomorrow night. Your mom and dad, too. He said since we're all a family now, we may as well get to know each other a little bit." I thought about Vince saying such a thing to Shane, the begrudging bitterness in his voice.

"He's not happy about us, is he?"

"He hasn't said anything like that to my face, but if he is, he'll get over it. He did with Steph." He smirked. "You know what this means, though, right?"

"What?"

"With Dad knowing about us..."

"What does it mean?" I asked.

"It means we're in it for the long haul now," he said with a laugh. I shot him a look.

"Is that okay with you?" I asked. He smiled.

"It's all I've wanted since I saw you on my father's doorstep."


	19. Together

Chapter 19: Together

* * *

The narrative I'd built inside my head of Kurt being guilty, of the case being open and shut went up in smoke when Vince called. He spoke with Shane because I couldn't force myself to talk over the phone, but Shane explained that Vince and the police had both been able to verify Kurt's whereabouts. While his family is based in Pittsburgh, he had been in Phoenix, dealing with an unfortunate situation that had arisen with his only sister. Shane said the way Vince dropped the u-word made him believe that drugs were probably involved. Vince said he spoke with her and with her roommate, and they both could vouch that Kurt had spent time with them. While he explained this to me, I could see in his eyes that Shane wasn't entirely buying the story. The truth is that I'm not sure I was, either. Phoenix is a twelve hour drive from Sacramento, but it would have been a short flight. So far, though, I haven't heard anything about Kurt being spotted at any airports.

Confident that I was in good hands with the McMahon family, my mom and dad flew back out to California to pack and clean the house and get it ready for sale. Vince let them use the company jet, something I know they were very thankful for. Mom and Dad promised to make their way back out again, but I also think Mom could sense that I was beginning to feel smothered. She promised to call when she landed.

I asked Shane how Kurt found out I was in the hospital because I heard him ask Vince. That's when Shane dropped another bombshell on me: two of my former WCW colleagues, Torrie Wilson and Stacy Keibler, were at the meeting. The girls are set to sign with the company, and I know they'll be part of Shane's alliance. Torrie, Stacy, and I don't exactly get along. A lot of it had to do with Scott Steiner because Stacy and Torrie got along with him. Scott didn't like me because he didn't like Chris. It was a whole cliquish thing. I had no idea Kurt knew either woman, but he apparently told Vince that he learned of what happened from them.

"You don't look happy."

"As opposed to these days?" I asked with a sigh. I was sitting on the leather couch in his living room, dressed in a sweater that was at least four sizes too big for my frame. I brought my knees to my chest and placed my hands around them. "Torrie, Stacy, and I have a pretty complicated history. When they started, they were really sweet. Nora and I trained them a bit because they were both thrown into the fire. They figured because Torrie was working with David Flair that the two of them would figure it out. Stacy won a dance competition to find a new Nitro Girl, but eventually, they wanted her to wrestle." Shane sat down in the armchair beside me.

"I need to preface this by saying I love Chris. He's like my brother. But sometimes he has a way of aggravating people. It's not that he really means to; it's just something he seems to come by naturally." Shane nodded, and I knew Chris and Stephanie's relationship came to mind. "I also need to point out that this is one of those rare times that Chris didn't do anything, and that Scott Steiner is a total lunatic.

"I don't know all of the details of what happened, but Scott and Chris started having some serious problems. The things he would say and do in front of the camera were nothing compared to the things he did behind the camera. They would hire women from local strip clubs to be his 'freaks' and he'd treat them so badly. He was awful to everyone, and management shrugged it off. 'Scotty is Scotty,' they'd say.

"Scott tried coming onto me, and he was aggressive. He wouldn't take no for an answer. It was a lot like the situation with Kurt, but it didn't feel dangerous because Scott was...it was almost like he was cartoonish if that makes any sense." I shook my head. "Jesus, I know how that sounds. But I didn't feel like I couldn't be by myself. But I made the mistake of saying something to Chris, and he _lost it_.

"From there, it was kind of war between the two of them. And Scott...it was like he was in high school. He spread rumors about me and said all kinds of things. Kimberly Page had to deal with the same thing before she said forget it and left. I was determined not to let him force me out, but he started getting into people's ears. Torrie. Stacy. Bischoff. I can't even begin to describe to you the kind of atmosphere it was in WCW. But Scott got into their heads and they decided I was the enemy. And it didn't matter what I tried to do, or what peace offerings were made – they just didn't want any part of me. So I let it go. And now they're here."

"WCW is the past, Noa."

"I hope so, but I don't know. The two of them and Kurt...it gives me a bad feeling."

"It does for me, too," Shane confessed. "Anything with him gives me a bad feeling."

"Do you buy his story?" I asked. Shane shook his head.

"Nope. But I can't prove anything, so I have to accept it." We fell silent, and I looked out the window at the New York skyline. "What time are your parents expecting us?" I asked.

"In the next couple hours. Steph and Hunter are coming to. We haven't told them the graphic details, but..."

"Home invasion, neck is fucked. I got it." Shane shot me a look, his lips curving into a smirk.

"That's the story and we're sticking to it, I guess." We fell quiet again. I felt small underneath his gaze, small because of the way he was studying every detail. His expression softened. "If you don't want to go, it's okay..."

"No. No. It's fine. This is kind of my first McMahon family thing. It would look pretty bad if I sat it out with a bad neck, what with Hunter being Superman with one quad." Shane snickered. "Is it okay if I wear this, or am I going to be under-dressed? I bet your dad wears suits seven days a week."

"Nope. Sundays are just button-downs and slacks," Shane said with a laugh. "Wear what makes you comfortable."

"Believe it or not, I do want to make a good impression," I told him. "I mean, we're together. I kind of want the family to like me."

"You've also been through a lot and you're still in a neck brace. Forget the heels and the dresses for now – just be comfortable. You'll have plenty of time to rock that stuff when you come back on the road." I looked over at him and smiled. I know he wanted to reach out and put his hand on mine, but I've been so skittish. Instead, he gave me a smile that put me at ease.

"You're right. At the very least, we should stop and pick up something for dessert. I don't want to show up empty-handed. I am trying to make a good impression. Do you know any places we can go?"

"Do I ever." There was a pause between us. I looked out the window again, at the blue sky. Shane stood, picking up my mug of tea and taking it back into the kitchen.

"I know he won't say anything to my face right now because of all of _this_ ," I said, motioning to my neck brace. "But how angry is your dad about all of this?"

"He's not," Shane confessed. He came back, and while I wanted to be skeptical, the look on his face told me that he was genuine. "I mean, he's worried about the both of us, but he's always suspected it, so I think he found some kind of acceptance with it." He sat down. "You know what he told me?"

"What?"

"He said out of all the girls back there, he said he was glad it was you."

"He did not."

"He did. He said you have a good head on your shoulders."

"When did he tell you that?"

"On the flight, when we were in the back going over the official statement he's going to release on the situation." He sat back in the chair, shaking his head. "That was one of the most oddly peaceful times I've had with my father. We didn't talk about the WCW acquisition or my plans or anything." As morbid as it sounds, I realized it might be for the best that I'm out injured while Shane is trying to rebuild WCW. Nobody's going to be looking at me suspiciously if I'm not there. Shane's lips pursed into a narrow line.

"Vince's official line is going to be...?"

"Home invasion. Neck fucked up. Something along those lines." I had to laugh.

"Fair enough." I unclasped my hands and stretched my legs. The two of us were startled when the phone rang. "If that's your dad, I think we should probably get going."

"I'll get it. You're probably right." He stood, moving to the phone and answering it before it went to his answering machine. "Yeah?" He was quiet for a moment. "We're on our way. Just getting ready." We traded looks, and I had to keep myself from laughing. "Okay. We'll be there soon. Soon." Shane hung up and shook his head. "We've been summoned."

"I guess we shouldn't keep him waiting then." I went to the foyer area to get my shoes, but he stopped me.

"If you really don't want to..."

"Shane, it's fine. I promise. I don't want to stay too long, but I should make an appearance. I mean, he's kind of your dad...and my boss..." I slid into a pair of flats. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry at how out of control my life has been since I failed to heed Chris's warning and hooked up with Shane. And even as horrible and as traumatized and sick as I feel about things, I wouldn't trade what I have with him for anyone or anything.

* * *

"Holy shit, Rinoa."

"Thanks, Steph," I answered dryly. She had opened the door, bouncy and grinning, the look on her face giving way to wide-eyed shock when her gaze fell on the neck brace. I felt under-dressed standing in her presence; her red dress was so tight that I suspected it was sewn onto her. It showed off a lot of cleavage, something I was surprised about since it was just a family dinner. Her brown hair hung in loose curls around her face. Looking over her shoulder, I saw Hunter step into view, dressed in a Motorhead shirt and blue jeans, his hair pulled back into a low ponytail. The hardness in his eyes was gone, replaced by sympathy and something I placed as relief.

"Hey, Noa. Jesus Christ. Glad to see you're up and about."

"Thanks, Hunter."

"Do the police have any leads?" he asked. I sighed.

"Not yet."

"Thanks for asking, Trips, but do you think you could let us in the house first?" Shane asked behind me. He was holding onto a giant fruit salad we picked up on the way over.

"Well, _excuse me_..." Hunter started, but a well-placed elbow to the sternum from his wife silenced him. They stood to the side and we walked into Vince's house. I haven't been here since I signed my contract, the first day I met Shane. I slid my shoes off, shooting a look at Hunter, thankful that he had dressed casually for this, too. Stephanie was on Shane, filling him in on some kind of gossip, the two of them walking down the hallway together. I stood with Hunter.

"I haven't said a word to Steph because Vince asked me not to, but he told me what happened," Hunter confessed. "I just want you to know if there's anything I can do..."

"Thanks, Hunter. I appreciate that." I crossed my arms over my chest. "How many people know the ugly details?"

"We're keeping it very hush-hush right now, so there's only a small handful. We're not telling Stephanie because of her... _friendship_ with Kurt." He said the f-word as if it were filthy. "We decided we don't want to give the guy any more reason to hang around you, especially under the umbrella of sympathy and concern."

"Thank you."

"While it's just you and I, I just wanted to mention that I know some people, if you, uh, need to talk to someone outside of the situation. I have a couple cards I can pass on to you." I looked at him, surprised. "I got them for Scott, but he doesn't listen to me."

"Thank you. Seriously. I don't..."

"You don't have to say anything. I'll pass them to you later on when no one's looking." He sighed. "We both got involved with a crazy family, Rinoa. I know you've been through a lot, but if I can help you out..."

"Thanks."

"Now, we should get in there and say hello to Vince before he comes and finds us. He's not a guy who likes to wait for things, in case you haven't noticed." I laughed, and together, Hunter and I walked down the hallway to the dining room, the same room where I signed my WWF contract. This time there was no inner circle, it was just the family.


	20. Happy Birthday

Chapter 20: Happy Birthday

* * *

July 24, 2001, fell on a Tuesday.

I woke up alone; Shane was on the road. It's not a secret in the wrestling world that _Raw_ airs live Thursday night _SmackDown_ tapes on Tuesdays. Shane was apologetic about missing my birthday while he packed, refusing to accept that I was okay with him not being home. He wanted to stay, I could see it in his eyes, but he had to be front and center with the Invasion, especially since the announcement two weeks ago that Stephanie had used a portion of her inheritance to buy out the now-bankrupt ECW. Shane procrastinated and did everything he could to spend every second he had with me before he left, but the reality is that I'm in no mood to celebrate.

As the reality of what's happened to me comes in waves, I find that my clutch on sanity is slipping. My ability to cope with what happened is falling away from me fast. I'm sure that Shane notices that I'm more anxious than usual; I spend most of my days hiding in my bedroom, fearful that the other shoe is going to drop. I tell myself that I'm on another coast, that nobody knows I'm here, but the voice in the back of my head has become a powerful enemy. I'm tense, I'm agitated most days, and I've lost enough weight that I can see my rib-cage when I undress. I don't sleep anymore; every night I lie down beside Shane, and while he sleeps peacefully beside me, I close my eyes because that's what I'm supposed to do. But sleep never comes. On the rare night it does, it's capped off with nightmares that leave me sweaty and terrified. Shane is on the road most days, so I can hide a lot. I don't want to scare him, or even worse, burden him with a basket case.

My moods have changed. I'm more agitated and anxious than I ever was. I'm prone to fits of anger. There are no words to describe the disgust I feel whenever I see the cameras slowly panning up the forty-one and a half inch legs of Stacy Keibler, who spends most of her WWF camera time bent over in front of the guys, picking up some invisible thing from the ground that she "dropped". Sitting on the couch wearing my neck brace, it takes everything not to grind my teeth or throw the remote when I watch how she interacts with Shane, the constant touching of his arm and the batting of her eyelashes. She always brushes up against him or runs her hands over his chest on the way out of his office. Those are the nights where I wish I wasn't so broken, where I could just tear off my neck brace and go after her like I'm Wonder Woman after Cheetah.

Even though I know his reactions to her are more professional and gentlemanly than anything, it kills me to see him look so happy around people who treated me so terribly in WCW. Nora and I did everything we could to try and help her and Torrie when they started. Stacy came into WCW through a dance contest; she was trying out to be the newest Nitro Girl. She won ten thousand dollars and management was smitten with her almost immediately. Both women didn't know anything when they started. When the Nitro Girls disbanded, management wanted the girls to learn how to wrestle. Nora and I were tasked with helping them along, but I quickly learned that we were from different worlds. Nora and I couldn't relate to the two on any level. We had a good working relationship for a while, but once Torrie started hanging out with Scott, things changed. I became the enemy because Chris and Scott hate each other. I tried to extend some olive branches, but whatever Scott told them about Chris and I led to the two of them soundly rejecting any overtures I made. I still feel awful about the way things went; I hate having enemies.

I told Shane I wanted to stay on the WWF side, that I wanted to stay out of this entire Invasion business, but I wished I could be on the front line. I know being there would cast me in a suspicious light because of my relationship with Shane, but I picked up the WWF flag the second I signed my contract. I'm so angry with myself that I wrote Torrie and Stacy off as faces from my past, girls who hate me that I'll never see again, only for them to show up in my neck of the woods and be hanging off my boyfriend.

I've never been the jealous type, so these emotions have me feeling so ashamed of myself. I find myself wondering daily why Shane is still with me. I'm so bent and beyond repair that I constantly wonder how he hasn't realized there are far more beautiful women with less baggage out there. The thought of Shane leaving is terrifying. I lay awake at night and worry about what that would mean for everything I worked for; would I be cast out like cancer? Or would I be expected to come into work every day like everything was fine?

Chris warned me not to get involved with a McMahon. He told me it was a bad idea, and I had every intention of listening. But somewhere, I fell for Shane, and now I'm constantly scared of what happens if things don't work out. But I can't bring myself to talk about those things with him.

"Happy fucking birthday," I said out loud. I was shocked at how bitter I felt, and how I find myself falling into states of self-pity so often. I've been dwelling on these bad feelings for weeks, but I don't know how to reach out. I don't look in the mirror anymore; last time I looked, I didn't recognize myself. There are bags under my eyes now. I look pale. The neck brace depresses me. Shane doesn't have to tell me that I look nothing like the woman he met and fell in love with; I can sense it. My ribs are visible now. The sparkle in my eyes has disappeared. I don't even know how to get that back.

I woke up this morning to my mother calling. She calls every year at quarter to four, the time I was born. Shane called at a more palatable hour. I couldn't help but ask about Torrie and Stacy, about the backstage videos I've been seeing. Shane assured me that they are just in the Alliance together, keeping a united front. I believe him, but the voice in the back of my head is putting me through the ringer. He promised to take me out for my birthday when he gets home, and I didn't have the heart to tell him I wasn't in the mood to celebrate. We hung up and I sat on the couch in silence. I do that a lot these days, snapped out of my thoughts when I realize the room's become dark.

I've spent my entire life trying to build myself up as tenacious and resilient; for the first time in my life, I find myself struggling. I feel weak, helpless, and worthless. I can't do much but sit and wait for my neck to heal. I beat myself up because Shane comes home every week to a woman who is barely hanging by a thread. He wants me to talk, but I'm afraid. I don't want to scare him, or worry him, or drive him away. But I feel like the silence might do it, too.

I was startled out of my thoughts when I heard knocking on the door. Looking at the clock on the wall, I realized it was after six. My heart was beating so quickly I thought I was going to faint. It took me a moment to realize my hands were shaking. I hoped if I stayed in place on the couch and shut my eyes, the person on the other side would just go away and let me be. But the knocking persisted.

"Rinoa! Open up, bitch – I brought cupcakes!"

I wish I could say the fear I felt dissolved at the sound of Trish's voice on the other side of the door, but I felt worse. I haven't seen Trish since I was on the road last. With a sigh, I got off the couch. Trish kept knocking.

"Hold on, hold on," I said loudly. I looked through the peephole before I unlocked and opened the door. I was surprised to see Trish in front of me on crutches. "What the hell happened to you?" I asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," she replied, her tone far too chipper for me to like. "I busted my shit training."

"Sorry to hear that."

"Perk of the job." She handed me a box. I looked at her.

"What's this?"

"You think I was coming over on your birthday empty handed? I made a stop at Magnolia Bakery and got some cupcakes." I looked down at the box, shocked when I felt the tears burning behind my eyes. Before I knew it, I burst into tears. Trish studied me intently.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked.

"No, no. It's...it's nice. I'm sorry." I moved to the side. "Come on in."

Trish came inside, and I shut the door behind her, locking it behind us. Trish moved to the sofa and sat down, propping her crutches against the end table. "How long are you going to be out of commission for?" I asked.

"A couple months. What about you?"

"The timetable is unclear," I answered. "Did you want anything to drink? I can make a pot of tea."

"That sounds great," Trish replied. I filled up the kettle and put it on to boil. I walked back into the living room and joined Trish on the couch.

"Did Shane send you?"

"Kind of. He called a few hours ago, but I was already in town. While I'm out, they're going to have me co-host _Excess_ with Coach."

"That sounds like a pretty good deal. You'll be good as new in no time." I sighed. Trish shot me a look.

"What about you?"

"The jury is still out," I said with a sigh.

"You know, we haven't really had a chance to talk since everything happened," Trish said. She leaned over and opened the cupcake box. I was surprised to see a dozen in there, half vanilla and half chocolate, frosted and decorated to an elaborate degree. "Shane told me Magnolia is your favorite."

"It is. I never had it before I moved out here."

"How are you liking it out here?" she asked. The kettle whistled and I went to the kitchen to prepare the teapot. I brought out cream and sugar cubes and mugs while the tea steeped.

"It's all right, I guess. I don't really go out."

"Shane mentioned that." I shot her a look. "Don't be mad. He's just worried about you."

"I'm not mad. I'm even worried about me these days," I grumbled. I brought out the teapot and placed it in the middle of the coffee table. Trish sighed.

"I wasn't going to say anything, but you look like hell, Rinoa."

"I feel like it, too." Trish handed me a chocolate cupcake. She took a vanilla.

"Do they have any leads?"

"No. I don't think they will, either." I sighed. "If I talk, you won't say anything, will you?"

"Not at all. Scout's honor." Trish crossed her heart with her finger.

"I doubt they'll ever catch this guy. The investigation is still open, and I guess no news is good news, but I don't think so." I sat back on the couch. "You're going to think I'm the worst, but for a moment, I thought it was Kurt."

"It's not awful. It was the first thought I had when I heard about what happened," Trish told me. "He has an airtight alibi, I'm gathering?"

"Yeah, it sounds that way. Even though the police have accepted it, there's just this sinking feeling I have." I sighed. "I feel like I've aged sixty years in the past couple of weeks."

"You look like it."

"Oh, get out of here," I said with a laugh. I bit into the cupcake.

"Torrie and Stacy have been trying to pump Shane for information about what happened," Trish divulged. I shot her a look. "You're not on the road, and he needs to talk to someone. He comes to me because of our friendship."

"Do you know what he's told them?"

"Just the official word. That you were hurt in a home invasion. But it runs a lot deeper than that, doesn't it? I can see it in your eyes." I looked away from her, suddenly overcome with shame. The tears began again. Trish sighed. "I knew it. Jesus Christ." She reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. "He used protection, didn't he? That's why you're so worried they won't find him."

"He wore gloves, too. He knew what he was doing."

"Jesus. Rinoa, I'm so sorry." She let me cry until I became exhausted. After it passed, Trish poured tea into both mugs. "I guess it makes sense why you up and left California now. It makes sense why Shane's so tense all the time these days."

"I know. He thinks I don't notice, but I do."

"He's so worried about you, Noa. He doesn't know what to do."

"I don't either." My voice cracked and I began to sob. "I'm scared all the time. I don't sleep. I feel so damaged, and I feel like he's going to leave. He's going to see that I'm beyond saving, especially with Torrie and Stacy hanging around him all the time. They've always been everything I'm not."

"Can I say something, Noa?" she asked.

"Sure."

"He's not going anywhere. Trust me. When he's on the road, he's only thinking about you."

"He is not."

"He is. He hasn't been going out to party." Trish added a dash of cream to her tea. I noticed she didn't take sugar. "He's trying to focus on the Invasion, but he's so worried about you. He wishes he was here more."

"He blames himself," I confessed with a sigh. "Every day he tells me that he regrets not taking me to Canada with him. He regrets that he took my no for an answer. Some days, I regret it, too." I added two sugar cubes, wiping the tears from my eyes with my free hand. "I constantly regret just not being honest about things from the jump. Maybe it would have saved me a lot of headaches."

"You had your reasons."

"I thought I was doing the right thing for everyone." I sighed. "You know, when I first signed, Chris told me not to get involved with the McMahon family. He told me it was dysfunction with a capital D. He told me it would be the worst mistake I could make, not just for my career, but for my life."

"He wasn't entirely wrong," Trish said.

"I couldn't help it. Shane said the moment he saw me he was hooked. I felt the same. I was so afraid to sign the contract at Vince's house, with his trusted inner circle, but Shane just...he had this aura that put me at ease. He went out of his way to give me advice when he didn't have to.

"Chris could see it right away. He was on me. He lectured me all the time. He told me I was walking into trouble. We tried to fight it, but we couldn't." I sighed. "After he kissed me on New Year's Eve, we came back here and had a long talk about where things were going to go. He wanted to go public. He wanted to shout it from the rafters." Trish laughed. "I begged him not to. People were still a bit leery of me, and I didn't want anyone to think I slept my way to where I am. I worked too hard for that."

"Shane obviously loves you if he went with it."

"It was fine at first. It was kind of hot, a secret, forbidden romance. But Kurt started getting out of hand, and when that started to escalate, the reality of a secret relationship began to wear on us. We were going to come clean. Shane and I were going to have a dinner with Vince and Linda and Stephanie and tell everyone. But this happened...I woke up from surgery to learn that Shane told Vince everything."

"Oh, God."

"In some ways, maybe it was almost better. He couldn't really blow a gasket with the state I was in." I thought about the hospital, the vomit that was still in my hair when I came out of surgery, and the look on Vince's face. "Is it out in the open now backstage?"

"Yeah. I mean, you know there's always been whispers, but when you got hurt everyone started going to him and asking about you. Eventually, it just kind of came out in the open. Shane's been really open about your relationship." We fell quiet. "I'm so sorry, Noa. I didn't know how bad it really was."

"I'm really grateful Shane hasn't said anything." I sighed. "I haven't even told Chris all the details. It's just you, Shane, and the investigators that know. I'd really like it to stay that way if it's possible."

"My lips are sealed." She flashed me a smile. "Are you cool with company tonight? Shane pitched a slumber party, and I think you could use it."

"With you? I'm always down."

"Good. I need to confess I didn't just get you cupcakes. There are cookies in the car. And I hit the video store – I got all kinds of stuff. Shane told me you're a huge into karate movies, so I got you _Rumble in the Bronx_ and _Romeo Must Die_. Shane told me you were spending your birthday alone, and I'm in the area. So, you're stuck with me."

"Besides Shane, I can't think of anyone else I'd want to be stuck with," I confessed with a smile.

"Great." She looked down at her ankle and laughed. "Aren't we a bunch?"

"We sure are," I said with a laugh. "It sounds awful, but I don't feel so alone now."

"Good." She draped her arm over my shoulders, careful not to touch the neck brace. "Happy birthday, Rinoa."


	21. Back In Sacramento

Chapter 21: Back In Sacramento

* * *

"I know this is tough, Noa. Are you going to be okay?"

I looked to my left, where Shane sat beside me on the WWF jet, his hand over mine to reassure me that things were going to be all right. He was dressed casually, in a black button-down shirt and blue jeans, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. Our plane was about to touch down in Sacramento, and the closer we got, the more frightened I felt. I wasn't doing a very good job of hiding it.

At one time, this beautiful city had been my home. I never wanted to leave. The day I bought my little dream house is still one of the greatest days of my life. Coming back now, under the cloud of what happened, I found that I didn't ever want to come here again. Shane and I were staying overnight and flying out in the morning. He booked us a room at a hotel just out of town, under a pseudonym in an attempt to make me feel better. But I didn't. I wanted to be back in New York, locked inside of the penthouse in the worst way. To add some light to the trip, Shane wanted to spend some time later in Long Beach. But first I had to get past a serious matter of business – I have to talk to the police.

"I guess. I don't know," I confessed quietly. "I just...I don't know what good this is going to do. I don't have faith that anything is going to happen here."

"I know." He squeezed my hand. Leaning over, he kissed the side of my head. "I'll keep the faith for the both of us." I had to smile. It didn't seem to matter how dark my life seemed to be, he always knew the sweetest things to say.

"I don't know how you can," I said with a sigh. We were landing. "But I appreciate it."

"No matter what happens with all of this, Noa, we'll get through it together. I mean that."

"Shane..."

"I know you're going through a lot. I can't even begin to know what you're dealing with. I know it's more than either of us can really comprehend." He cleared his throat, a clear sign that he was uncomfortable. "I was thinking that maybe...well, when you're ready...maybe we can get you into seeing a counselor or something. Just to talk to somebody outside of the situation," he added quickly. "I can go with you, or you can go alone, it's up to you. But when you're ready, it might be an option for you."

There was a lot I wanted to say, but instead, I stayed quiet. I know he wants to see me make it through this, to get to the other side and find some kind of life again, but I just don't see how it could ever happen. I wanted to tell him that my thoughts scare me and that I don't want to scare him. He reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of my face. These days it hangs limply around my face, but he still plays with it.

"When this whole Invasion thing is over, Noa, I think you and I should run away together."

"Where would we go?" I asked, leaning back against the seat.

"I don't know. Somewhere hot. Somewhere where nobody can find us."

"Getting lost together sounds wonderful," I confessed. "I don't know if we could ever really make that happen."

"I'm already working on it," Shane told me. "Dad doesn't like it, but he gets it."

"I..."

"He's worried about you," Shane blurted. "He wants to call you, but he's worried about smothering you."

"He can't be any worse than Trish," I said with a short laugh. Ever since our birthday sleepover, Trish has been in constant contact with me every day.

"We'll book the vacation to celebrate you getting out of that neck brace," he told me. I grinned. He knows that I'm already counting down the days until I can stop wearing the brace. There are months before I don't need it anymore. It's uncomfortable, and I'm already tired of the looks of pity I get when people see me in the brace.

"I can't wait to get out of this thing," I murmured, shutting my eyes. He squeezed my hand.

Once the plane landed and we were on the tarmac, the two of us headed towards the car Shane arranged to drive us to the police station. All morning my hands have been shaking. It's not even noon, but I drank on the flight. If Shane was judging me for it, he didn't say anything about it. He drank with me.

We took a moment in front of the building so I could steady my nerves. Shane didn't speak; instead, he let me gather myself in peace. I didn't have to tell him I was ready; when my posture straightened, he gave my hand a squeeze and we walked inside together. Shane spoke to the receptionist while I paced in the waiting area.

I stopped when an officer emerged, a tall, dashing man who didn't look older than thirty-five. His hair was cut like a politician's, light brown in the light. His name-tag read "Griffin". "Rinoa Fielder?" he asked.

"That's me." I approached, extending my hand. He shook it.

"I'm Alex Griffin, the lead investigator on your case. Thank you very much for coming back to the area to speak with me. How is your neck doing?"

"It's all right so far. I go back to the doctor next week for a checkup. Would you mind if Shane joined us?" I asked.

"Not at all." He shook Shane's hand. "Nice to meet you. Huge fan."

"Thank you." The three of us walked to a room in the back of the building. Detective Griffin stood to the side as Shane entered. It reminded me of the room Joe Pesci got shot in during _Goodfellas_ ; very basic. The walls were high and white, the floors wood. A single table and some chairs were set up in the middle of the room.

We took our seats. He produced a tape recorder. "For the purpose of the investigation, I'll be recording our discussion here, if that's all right," he told me.

"That's fine." He nodded and hit the record button on the recorder.

"This is Detective Alex Griffin of the Sacramento Police Department. It is eleven-forty-five in the morning on August first, 2001. Could you please state your name?"

"Rinoa Fielder."

"Thank you, Ms. Fielder..."

"Please. Rinoa."

"Rinoa." He looked at Shane. "I'll get you to state your name here as well."

"Shane McMahon."

"Thank you. And your relationship with each other?"

"We're dating," I answered.

"Do you live together?"

"We do now, but at the time of all of...this...she was living here in Sacramento, and I've been living in New York," Shane answered. He looked to me for confirmation, and I nodded.

"Rinoa, I know this is going to be incredibly difficult for you," Detective Griffin started, "But we need you to take us through the events that night, okay? Take your time, but try not to leave out any details, no matter how small." Shane squeezed my hand. I felt like my throat was going to close.

"I was getting the house the way I wanted it. Shane was in Canada for a business presentation, and he was planning to come back and spend some time at my home," I started. "We were going to talk about how we were going to approach his family with our relationship."

"The two of you were seeing each other in secret?" Detective Griffin asked. Shane nodded.

"My father is quite overprotective," Shane explained. "When Rinoa and I got together, we both decided it would be best for her career if we kept things quiet. But we had been having some troubles with a colleague, and it was getting to a point where we were ready to go public to get this gentleman to back off."

"And this was Kurt Angle, correct?"

"Yes," I answered. I licked my lips. It felt so hard to talk. "I got some time off to deal with some nagging injuries. Shane and I were going to use that time to figure out just what to do about his father."

"Back to Mr. Angle. I see here in my notes that he has an alibi, but I'm just curious – had you had any issues with him before?" Detective Griffin asked. Shane squeezed my hand.

"Be honest," Shane whispered.

"I have," I confessed. "He's been asking me out for over a year, but recently he's become more aggressive."

"Aggressive how?"

"Verbally. Physically, as well." I gave him a bare bones description of what happened at _King of the Ring_. Detective Griffin nodded. He wrote something down on his notepad, but I couldn't see what it was.

"Did you ever report Mr. Angle to your boss?" he asked.

"No. I know you guys are going to think this is insane, but I felt like I couldn't. He's one of the company's top draws. I didn't want to be seen as a troublemaker." Shane shook his head. I know that he's sickened by my way of thinking in this regard, but I've seen it so many times over the course of my career.

"Does he know where you live?" Detective Griffin asked.

"Not to my knowledge," I answered. Shane's eyes narrowed.

"What's with this questioning? Is he a suspect?" Shane asked bluntly.

"He has what seems to be an airtight alibi, but I'd like to be thorough," Detective Griffin told him. I could tell that Shane wasn't satisfied by that answer. "There were no signs of forced entry, Rinoa. Did you let him in?"

"No. I didn't have a visitor all day, which was strange, because normally kids come to the house for autographs," Rinoa confessed. "I did go into the kitchen and notice the back door was open. By the time I made it back into the living room, he was waiting for me. I didn't see him. He was in black. Ski mask. Everything." Shane swallowed. It was a loud sound. I knew this was going to be hard for him to hear.

"Did you have the back door open?"

"Maybe while I was cleaning earlier in the day, but I was pretty sure I closed it."

"Perhaps you did. Maybe you forgot to lock it. Do you keep any spare keys around, like under the mailbox or something?" Detective Griffin asked. I sighed.

"I do. I'm a bit of a scatterbrain when I come off the road. I have a magnetic box under a really specific plant in my yard. You'd really have to look for it. I've never told anybody about it. Not even Shane."

"Does it open the back door?" he asked.

"It opens the front as well. I didn't want a million keys on my chain." Detective Griffin wrote it down. I felt myself becoming hot with shame. It felt like everyone in the room blamed me for what happened, that I set myself up for this. My hand began to shake. I felt Shane give a reassuring squeeze, but it did nothing to stop the hammering inside my chest.

"Do you think whoever did this had her home scouted?" Shane asked.

"It's hard to say. How long has it been since you've used that key?" he asked.

"A long time. I've been getting better about remembering my keys when I go for a jog."

"My spare key – was it placed back in the box?" I asked.

"It's missing," Detective Griffin confirmed. Shane looked like he wanted to be sick. I felt the same way. While I had my reservations in the hospital, this revelation told me that I had made the right decision moving in with Shane. "According to my notes, none of the other officers recovered it at the scene."

"Great. Just great."

"Rinoa, was there anything about him you recognized? Anything you can tell us?"

"I wish. He was all in black. He felt very firm, like he spent some time in a gym. He was wide, and he has to be some kind of a gym rat because he threw me around as if I didn't weigh more than a sack of potatoes."

"Did you see anything?"

"It was dark, and there are some things I can remember...and some things I can't," I confessed. "I wish I could help more. I really do."

"You've helped us quite a bit," he told me, but I wasn't sure how much I believed it. "How long are the two of you in town for?"

"We're going to be leaving tomorrow morning," Shane informed him. "I'll leave you with the number to our hotel and the names we are booked under."

"Thank you. If there's anything else, I'll call you. Or if there's anything that either of you can think of, or anything Rinoa, that you remember..." He reached into his breast pocket and handed me his card. "Call this number."

"I will. Thank you," I replied, slipping his card into my bag. We stood and shook hands, Shane and I allowing Detective Griffin to escort us out of the room.

"I'm sorry this has happened, Rinoa, but it seems you have a great support system here," Detective Griffin observed. I flashed him a tight smile.

"I do." We shook hands once more, and then we separated. Shane held the door open for me. We walked out into the Sacramento sunshine, and I found I didn't feel any better or worse after the talk.

Shane stopped in front of me. "Hey. Are you okay?"

"I'll be all right," I assured him. Reaching out, I touched his face, running my thumb across his cheek. Something flashed in Shane's eyes as if he were touched by the gesture. "I love you. Thank you for being here." He leaned forward and gave me a kiss on the forehead.

"I love you, too. Don't ever forget it." He pulled me in for a hug. "You've had a rough morning, so how about we go check into the hotel and then go to the beach?"

"My neck brace..."

"There are ways around it." He rubbed my back, a soothing gesture. "We're heading out tomorrow, so let's make the rest of the day count, all right?"

"That sounds good," I told him, but deep in the pit of my stomach, I couldn't staunch the nerves. Nothing bad had happened since the plane landed, but I still had a feeling like there was still time for things to get turned upside down once more.


	22. Girl Fight

Chapter 22: Girl Fight

* * *

After the exhausting police appointment, Shane and I checked into our hotel and changed into swimwear before heading out to spend the day at Sand Cove Park Beach. Thanks to the burdensome neck brace, I couldn't do any serious swimming, but Shane told me that the two of us could wade in the water together. Being the only person on the beach with a giant neck brace made me feel self-conscious. I didn't really want to be out in the sunlight, among people, but I didn't want to ruin Shane's day either. I know that he's been trying so hard to get me to smile again, and I wanted at least one of us to be happy in Sacramento.

We set down our towels, and I took off my yellow dress. The bikini I wore underneath was emerald green, shimmering and conservative in comparison to what my colleagues and I usually wear at work. I sat down on the towel and stretched out, looking out at the beautiful blue sky and the shimmering water in front of me.

"I'm going to swim. You should come with me."

"I'm fine for now. I think I'm just going to soak up the sun a little bit," I told him. If he was disappointed, I didn't see it on his face. He gave me a quick kiss on the forehead before he ran towards the water. I lay back on the towel and shut my eyes. It's been so long since I've had a chance to enjoy a warm day at the beach.

Shane wasn't gone for more than a few minutes when I felt a cold shadow over me. "Oh, would you look what we have here? It's the girl who cried _rape_."

My eyes opened quickly. I was shocked to see Torrie Wilson and Stacy Keibler standing over me, in bikinis that were far more glamorous than mine. My body jolted; only a handful of people knew the ugly details of the home invasion. I looked up at Stacy, who stood in a blue floral print bikini with her hands on her hips. Torrie was in a black string bikini with her tiny dog underneath her arm. I moved away quickly and stood, looking for any sign of Kurt. I don't know why I was looking for him, but I also knew that they seemed to like the people who hated me. I also noticed that people around us were staring; Stacy had spoken a little too loudly. I wished that I could have been buried underneath the sand.

"Where did you hear that?" I asked, my voice quiet but firm.

"You know what, Stacy? I bet she made that all up for attention," Torrie stated, tossing a bleached blonde lock over her shoulder. "She's always been the type that gets everything and still wants more..."

" _Where did you hear that_?" I asked – no, I practically growled. Stacy looked at me, her expression smug.

"What are you going to do, Rinoa?" Stacy asked me. "Are you gonna hurt me?" She moved to pat my head condescendingly, but I surprised the both of us by slapping her hand away.

"Don't you ever fucking touch me," I told her.

"What are you going to do in that neck brace?" Stacy taunted. "Huh? Unless you're lying about that, too."

"I bet she's lying about it to keep Shane around. You don't see the way he looks at Stacy," Torrie told me. "I'm sure he's just been keeping you around until somebody better comes around."

"You need to get away from me," I said darkly.

"Oh, you wish it were that easy, don't you?" Stacy giggled.

"Why are you two like this?" I asked. I didn't want to cry in front of them, but I was close.

"Oh, like you don't know why," Stacy snapped. "It's always Rinoa the Victim. Rinoa gets whatever she wants. Rinoa gets whoever she wants."

"That's so not accurate."

"You think he's going to stay with you, Rinoa? You think he's going to give you the house and the picket fence and the kids? You're a practice run, and it's only a matter of time before you learn the lesson the hard way. And I'll be right there to pick up the pieces." Stacy punctuated her harsh words by poking me. The second she touched me, I snapped.

I grabbed her by the wrist and the elbow and threw her down. I was on her in seconds, my hands in her hair, bouncing her head off the sand over and over, yelling incoherently. I can't really remember the things I was saying; it felt like every ounce of despair, desperation, anger, grief, and rage I felt since everything had happened came out of me. While I was releasing all of my pent up feelings on Stacy, I could vaguely hear the people around us.

Two hands were around my waist, pulling me back. It took me only a fraction of a second to realize it wasn't Torrie, but Shane pulling me off. I released my hold on Stacy's hair, and Torrie rushed to her fallen best friend. "Put a leash on your bitch, Shane! What the fuck is wrong with you? You crazy bitch!" Stacy held the side of her head, her eyes narrowed. "I'll get you for this!"

"You ever come near me, or you ever come near Shane, and I'll show you fucking _crazy_!" I shouted. "You touch me again, and what I've done to you is going to be only a fraction of what I'm going to do to you!"

"Down, girl," Shane whispered. He wasn't releasing me for anything. He peered over my shoulder, down at the two blondes on the sand. "Both of you get lost. Don't make me let her go."

"This isn't over," Stacy threatened darkly.

"You don't want war with me," I shot back.

"You're crazy!" Torrie announced. "You're crazy! Shane, you're really getting involved with this..."

Shane let me go. I'm not sure I've ever seen two people run so quickly. They were out of my sight in a hurry.

Suddenly exhausted and mortified, my knees buckled and I collapsed to the sand. Shane slid his shirt on. "Come on, Noa. Let's go back to the hotel." We gathered our things and left. It felt like everyone on the beach was whispering about this, and I knew that I was probably going to have to explain a few things to Vince.

* * *

"What happened exactly?"

"They came to me. I didn't even know we were on the same beach," I told him quickly. We were quiet for a few moments. I watched the trees pass us by in a green blur. I sighed. "They know what happened."

"Everyone knows what happened. Vince told everyone about what happened to you."

"Shane, they know _what happened_."

"Oh... _oh_." It dawned on him. He looked at me. "How the fuck do they know that?"

"I don't know! Somebody had to have told them. Who all knew?"

"As far as I know, just Dad and I. Have you told anyone?"

"Shane, I can't even bring myself to say the word."

"Fair enough." He sighed. "I'm going to have to have a talk with Dad. Somebody had to have heard us having the talk or something, but if Torrie and Stacy are using it like that, there's a shot they might leak it to the dirt sheets." I groaned. The idea of the ugly details hitting the web was something I liked.

"You love me, right?" I asked.

"Of course." He answered quickly. "Why?" I didn't have to answer. He sighed. "Don't listen to those two. I have no interest in either of them. It's all you, Noa." He reached over and put a hand on my knee. "You know how you should know that, too?" he asked.

"No."

"I have to explain to Dad why you beat up two of his Golden Girls, and I've got no problem with it." We shared a laugh. "As far as I'm concerned, they've had it coming with the way they've been behaving."

"Stacy wants you."

"Oh, I know it. She's not my type."

"God, of all the days for those two to be here. Like, I feel like it's not a coincidence."

"You think someone tipped them off?" Shane asked.

"With everything I've seen, I'm not a big believer in coincidences these days. Who all knew that we were coming here?"

"Mom, Dad, and Steph."

"You think maybe it was Steph?"

"It could be. Maybe a slip of the lip – she knows not to talk about you. We've had the talk."

"Maybe you should have it with her again." I sighed. "Stacy accused me of lying about everything, in front of everyone." I looked down at my hands, and I suddenly felt so ashamed of myself for allowing the two of them to get under my skin the way that they did.

"None of this is your fault."

"Stacy's going to be a problem," I said with a sigh. "She's made it pretty clear that she's after you."

"Well, she can give it a shot, but it's not going to happen, Rinoa." We pulled into the parking lot of the hotel.

"Do you think they know we're here?" I asked.

"We're under a different name. I haven't told anyone what that name is. They'll never find us, okay?"

"Are you sure?" I didn't feel all that convinced.

"Yes. I promise." He killed the ignition. We sat in the car for a few moments. "I'm sorry, Rinoa."

"None of this is your fault."

"I know, but I just wanted you to have a fun day out at the beach."

"I saw the room has a Jacuzzi. Between that and room service, I'm sure the two of us can rebound," I said, forcing a smile on my face. Shane nodded.

"You know what? You're right." We got out of the car and walked back into the hotel. I couldn't help myself; the entire walk, I kept looking around, wondering if I was going to see Torrie and Stacy, or worse.

* * *

The hot water was soothing to my body and my nerves. With the towels was peppermint scented oil that had a very strong smell. I leaned back in the water, against Shane's chest while he tried to work out the tension in my shoulders. Even though hours had passed, my adrenaline refused to wane. I felt so anxious, like what I had done was going to come back to hurt me in a big way.

"I feel like I could sleep for a year," I confessed, closing my eyes.

"I'm glad to hear that. Don't think I haven't noticed you aren't sleeping much," he told me, placing a kiss on the back of my head. His hands moved away from my shoulders, his arms wrapping around me. "We should do this more. This is nice," he commented.

"It is," I agreed. We fell quiet.

"You're still upset about the fight."

"I'm just...I'm ashamed of myself. They wanted to push my buttons, and they won. I'm no better than they are."

"I know there's nothing I can say that's going to make you feel better about this, but if they came looking for trouble, then they got what they deserved." He placed a kiss on my shoulder. "And I'm not advocating violence, but I don't think they were going to leave you alone until you did something about it."

"They didn't leave me alone until you intervened. Because you're their boss."

"Don't give me the credit. They made a break for it when I let you go."

"God, someone probably got pictures. It's going to be all over the place, and your father is going to kill me."

"I'll deal with Dad, just like I'll deal with Torrie and Stacy with Stephanie. Don't worry yourself about that stuff. You've got enough to worry about."

"I think maybe I should come on the road with you next week."

"Really? Noa, do you think that's a good idea?" Shane asked.

"It could be. I'd love to see Chris, and Mark, and Trish. I'm feeling a little isolated." I sighed. "I'm starting to get tired of feeling so afraid of everything. I went from living my life to being afraid of my own shadow, and I don't know how to fix it."

"I wish I knew how to fix it," Shane confessed. He moved his hands to my shoulders, but the sound of his cell phone ringing jolted the two of us out of our moment. His ringtone is his entrance music, and it never fails to make me smile. The first time I found out, I laughed pretty hard at him.

"I bet that's your father," I said with a sigh.

"Probably." I shifted so he could get out. Grabbing a towel, he wrapped it around his waist and moved to answer the phone. Knowing that it was going to be a long call, I drained the Jacuzzi and got out, wrapping myself in a towel. Shane moved into the bathroom to speak with Vince in private, but I could hear him through the door. The call was definitely about my run-in with Torrie and Stacy at the beach. I could only imagine how angry Vince was.

While Shane was stuck fighting my battles with his father, I got into my pajamas and crawled into the king-sized bed. I was asleep before Shane got off the phone.


	23. A Lapse In Judgment

Chapter 23: A Lapse In Judgment

* * *

"Noa? Jesus Christ, it's really you. You're really here."

Chris was on me the second he saw me, wrapping his arms around me tightly and swinging me around gently. He was already in his ring gear with a shimmering button-down shirt that was wide open. I had been planning to come out for _Raw_ , but Shane managed to talk me into coming out to San Jose for _SummerSlam_. It was taking place at the Compaq Centre this year, a stacked card of Alliance vs. WWF matches from top to bottom, headlined by Steve and Kurt for the WWF title and Rock vs. Booker for the WCW title. Shane told me this morning as we were getting ready that he was going to be accompanying Booker to ringside in what is probably going to be a very physical match.

"Hi, Chris," I giggled. He put me down, and I smoothed my black and violet floral dress with my hands.

"Jesus, I've missed you so fucking much back here," he blurted. He gave me a once-over. "You're looking good. You know, as good as you can look with that fucking brace. You get radio reception on it?"

"Nope. Don't think Shane hasn't tried." The three of us shared a laugh.

"I've missed you, Noa. Seriously."

"I've missed you, too," I confessed, fixing my black and purple cardigan. "I've been feeling a little isolated, so I wanted to come and see everyone. Is Trish here? I know she's hurt, but I thought maybe..." Chris shook his head.

"Nope. She's doing the promotional stuff at The World." He motioned to the brace. "How is the neck doing? Is the brace driving you nuts yet?"

"You don't even know," I told him with a sigh. I crossed my arms over my chest. "I really can't wait until I don't have to wear this stupid thing anymore."

"How much longer do you have to wear it?"

"A couple more months. It's making life pretty uncomfortable."

"I can imagine." Chris reached out and took my hand. He looked over at Shane. "I hope you don't mind, but I'm stealing your girl. There are some people back here that are just dying to see her."

"Yeah, sure. Do your thing, you guys. I need to go talk strategy with Booker anyway. Just...you know the drill. Keep her away from _him_ , and when you're ready to cut her loose, send her back my way. Accompany her back – there's been some trouble with Torrie and Stacy," Shane warned. Chris shot me a look, but I didn't say anything.

"Can do, Captain. Come on, Noa, let's do this." He readjusted so that our arms were linked together, and together we left Shane in the hall. When we were out of Shane's earshot, I looked at Chris.

"Is this going to be awkward? I mean with this whole Alliance vs. WWF thing..."

"It's going to be fine. You're kind of considered exempt because of what happened," Chris explained. "Everybody's been worried about you."

We walked down the hall towards catering. Nora rounded the corner in a rush, bumping into Chris. Molly was already in her gear, her hair and makeup done. She had a six-woman tag match on _Heat_ to kick off the show. Her eyes widened when they fell on me, her lips curving into an ecstatic smile.

"Oh my gosh! Rinoa! I can't believe you're here!" She hugged me tightly as if we hadn't seen each other in years. "I heard about what happened. How awful! Do the police have any leads? Have they found the guy yet?"

"No. I'm not sure they're going to, either," I answered honestly. Chris put a reassuring hand on my back. "But I'm doing okay. This neck brace is driving me crazy, though."

"I'm so glad to see you. We've all been so worried since we heard the news." She fell quiet, looking at me differently than she had been seconds before. She shook her head, and I was suddenly confused.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Nora..."

"It's nothing. It's just...I always knew there was something with you and Shane." I sighed.

"I guess that's all out in the open now, is it?"

"It's definitely safe to assume that," Chris told me.

"Stacy and Torrie are furious about it, just a head's up. Stacy mostly. You should hear the awful things they say about you."

"I can imagine. I've already had a run-in with them this week."

"I heard about that. Stacy has been crying about it to anyone who will listen. From everything I've heard her say, she's had it coming for a while, so don't feel too bad." I had to laugh.

"I just feel bad I made everyone look bad."

" _She's_ making us look bad by being so delusional." Nora put her hands on her hips and looked at Chris and I. "So, where are you two off to?"

"I'm taking her to see the Dead Man. He's been worried about her. After that, probably Steve."

"Oh, that's great. Those two ask about you all the time. I hate to cut this short, but I need to go see Jackie and Lita about our match tonight. You should come and see us later on if you have some time."

"I'm definitely going to do that. I miss you guys."

"We miss you, too. I can't wait until you're back. What's the timetable?"

"Nothing yet."

"Keep me posted. It's so good to see you." She gave me another hug and then she walked between Chris and me, making quick strides down the hall. She was out of my view in seconds. I suddenly felt exhausted, and a little overwhelmed. The voice in the back of my head was second guessing if it was a good idea to come here.

Chris shot me a look. It was almost as if he could read my thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's go. I don't want to be standing out here for Kurt to find me."

* * *

" _What?"_

"Ooh, he sounds annoyed," I whispered with wide eyes. Chris had been banging on the door to Mark's locker room as if his fist were a battering ram. He looked at me, returning my apprehensive gaze with a mischievous smirk.

"That's why I've got you, Noa dear." I giggled as Chris opened the door, letting it swing open. Mark was sitting in a steel folding chair, lacing up his boots. His long black leather trench coat was hanging on a hook behind him. He looked up in annoyance as we walked in, his expression changing to surprise when he saw me. He was out of his chair quick, wrapping his arms around me, knocking the two of us off balance. We staggered back a step, the two of us sharing a laugh.

"Look at this! What a great surprise! When did you get here?" he asked.

"A few minutes ago," I told him. "You're my first visit." His embrace was so tight that I thought my chest was going to cave in. He pulled away from me, examining me thoughtfully, his green eyes sparkling with what I presumed to be elation.

"You're looking good. How have you been?"

"Some days are worse than others," I answered honestly. I didn't see any reason to lie to him, or to Chris. "We're getting ready to put the house up for sale, and we're looking into some therapy for me, for the days when things get to be a little bit too much. Shane tells me it might be good to talk to someone who is outside of the situation."

"That's not a bad idea," Chris told me.

"I heard you had a big run-in this week," Mark told me. I sighed.

"I did. Nothing ever gets past you, does it?"

"Never. What happened?"

"Stacy and Torrie got their hands on some confidential information, and they're smearing me to anyone who will listen. Namely that I'm lying about everything, what happened, the injuries I have."

"What the fuck do they know? They didn't see you after the surgery," Chris snorted in disgust.

"Stacy wants Shane something bad, so she's willing to say anything to kick that pedestal out from under me." I sighed, feeling defeated by everything that's been happening. "I almost kind of wish she'd just succeed, so Shane doesn't have to be weighed down by me anymore."

"He's not weighed down by you, Noa – he loves you," Mark assured me. Chris nodded. "And he's only got eyes for you. Don't ever question that."

"I don't."

"How have things been with Vince since the news came out?" Mark asked.

"All right, I guess. I'm kind of ducking him right now. I know he wants to talk to me in the worst way about roughing Stacy up at the beach this week. Shane had to talk him down after the photos and video hit the web this week. I'm not sure if he wants Shane to dump me for it, but he hasn't done it so far."

"I hate to leave this conversation, but I need to go do a promo. Keep her here, Chris. I'll be right back." He nodded, and I watched Mark slide on his trench coat as he walked out. When the door closed behind him, Chris and I stayed quiet for a few seconds.

"How many people know all of the ugly details about me, Chris?" I asked.

"You mean, like, what's in the police report kind of details?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Outside of the McMahon family, I can't say. I don't know all the details, and to be honest, I'm afraid to ask."

"They're telling everyone I'm making things up, Chris. Like, I didn't think I was going to have to fight those kinds of accusations." I sighed. "Ugh. I really don't want to have to talk to Vince about any of this.

"You can't avoid the old man forever, Noa – you guys are practically family now," he reminded me, a little too gleefully. I shot him a look. "Don't look at me like that – you gotta take the good with the bad. Remember what I told you when you started here?"

"Oh, God, you're playing the greatest hits tonight," I said with a roll of my eyes. "Don't make me kill you, Chris."

"Hey – you were the one who didn't listen to me," he pointed out, raising his hands in surrender. He sighed, dropping his hands to his side. "Look, this is what you've done, and I support you because you're one of my best friends. And if anyone has an issue with it, they can take it all up with Mark and I. If anyone has an issue with what's happened to you, they can take it up with the lot of us. Let us fight for you for a bit. Focus on getting better."

I felt hot tears begin to form behind my eyes. Chris rushed me, draping his arm over my shoulders and pulling me into him. "Hey, hey – don't cry. You're a lot prettier when you don't cry."

"You're awful."

"I prefer honest. Now, I need to know – how has it been living with Shane?" I sighed.

"You are incorrigible."

"Yet you still love me."

"It's been fine."

"Have you two been...?"

"Jesus Christ, Chris. Don't ask me that." I laughed. "What the hell is wrong with you? I'm not telling you that."

"I just want to know how deep you're in it."

"Ba..."

"You know what? Forget I asked." I laughed. Before I could say anything else, the door opened. Mark was back. We stayed for a few more minutes, but he had a match to get ready for, and I had a list of people I still needed to see.

* * *

"Well, goddamn, look at this! I heard you were here, but I said I had to see it to believe it!"

Steve wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me in. I felt awkward since it's the first time I've seen Steve since the hospital. Debra stood behind him, practically stitched into her vinyl Austin 3:16 ensemble, her hands on her hips. She looked annoyed, and part of me wondered if it was because I was there. I don't know Debra all that well, even though she spent some time in WCW. She's much older than I am, so we ran in different circles.

"It's good to see you," I told him.

"It's great to see you, Rinoa. How's the neck?"

"Still there."

"The brace driving you crazy yet?" he asked.

"If anyone knows the answer back here, it's you," I told him. In the summer of 1997, Steve broke his neck in a match with Owen Hart. He came back a few months ago from another neck surgery, one that left him with the nickname "The Bionic Redneck."

"Rinoa – Rinoa, there you are!"

I turned as Stephanie approached us, dressed in black vinyl, her hair already crimped and wild. "I'm really sorry, Steve – I hate to interrupt this nice moment, but I need to steal Rinoa. We've got a little bit of an emergency." She was frantic, her blue eyes wide. She looked like she had seen someone shot in front of her. Stephanie grabbed my wrist and yanked me away from Steve. I offered him and Chris a sheepish apology and promised to catch up with them later as Stephanie dragged me away from them. She moved so quickly that I struggled to keep up with her.

"Would you just...Steph...Steph, stop!" I got out of her grasp, forcing her to stop and turn to me. "Jesus. What in the world is going on?" I asked her, trying to rub the pain of her grip out of my wrist. Stephanie sighed.

"Shane. He needs you."

"What's going on?" I asked, falling into step with her.

"I don't know. He had a run-in with Stacy Keibler. He's freaking the hell out, and she's saying that he assaulted her." I shot Stephanie a look of disbelief.

"Shane? That doesn't sound like him..."

"He's not confirming or denying it. He just wants to see you." We rounded the corner. I saw Stacy talking to a member of the medical staff, a hand around her neck. Her face was stained with tears, her eyes wide with a fear that I knew was real. We locked eyes, but she quickly averted her gaze. About ten feet away from her was the Alliance locker room.

Walking into the locker room, I found Shane alone, pacing back and forth. His hands were shaking. He turned to us, his brown eyes full of regret. I turned to Stephanie. "Would you mind giving us a couple minutes?" I asked. She nodded and let herself out of the room. Shane and I were quiet for a few moments after the door closed.

"What did you do?" I asked him softly. Shane huffed.

"I didn't mean to. I regret it. I'm ashamed of myself. I just... I have no excuse." He was talking quickly. In all the time I've known him, I've never seen him so rattled. As a McMahon, he grew up as an expert on putting on a poker face. Whatever happened had shaken him to his core. I approached, placing both hands gently on his face, forcing him to look me in the eyes.

" _What did you do_?" I asked softly, but firmly. He sighed.

"She was waiting for me by the loading docks when I went to go grab my case. I tried to leave her alone, but she was blocking me, she wouldn't get out of my way. She was angry. She accused me of trying to blow her off. She accused me of being wrapped around your finger, that...she said awful, horrible things about you, and I just...I snapped."

"What do you mean, you snapped?"

"I shoved her against the wall. It was the only way I was going to get past her. I told her to keep your name out of her mouth or I'd cut her contract."

"Did you choke her?" I asked. "Because I saw her in the hallway. She was holding her neck."

"My forearm hit her neck. It wasn't for more than two seconds, I swear. Two seconds too many, I know, but it was quick. I just needed to get past her. I just needed her to be quiet."

"Oh, Shane..."

"I know, I know," he groaned. "It's bad. I know how bad it looks. She said something, and I lost it. I caught myself before I did something really dumb, but not before I did something stupid."

"Your father is going to be so pissed with the two of us," I groaned. "What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't, Noa. I let her get the best of me. And normally, I'm better at tuning it all out, but not for you. You've been through too much for me to just let her bullshit slide."

"Jesus." I didn't know what else to say. I knew this could get bad. Really, really bad.

* * *

At the end of the night, after we loaded our bags in the car – in case we had to make a quick break for it - Shane and I walked into Vince's office like two delinquents being sent to the principal's office. Vince was seething, and as much as I didn't want to see or talk to him, I knew it was going to give me a chance to ask him about Torrie and Stacy's knowledge of my attack.

Vince had no answers for me, and he didn't really care about the answers we gave when it came to the developing situation with Torrie Wilson and Stacy Keibler. Vince let us off with a warning, telling us that he had to go and console Stacy and make sure she doesn't press charges. The way he said _console_ made Shane and I look at each other, our skin crawling from the innuendo. With a deep and aggravated sigh, Vince left the office, slamming the door behind him. Shane exhaled.

"Well, that could have been worse," he told me.

"It could have." I threw my hands up. "I'm just going to say it. I think he's off to sleep with Stacy and _ew_."

"Noa..."

"That's what you got out of that, too, right? Tell me I'm not misreading that."

"Well, yeah, but I don't need to hear it out loud. Thanks a lot for throwing it into the universe," he said with a grimace. I shot him a look.

"Oh, no – I'm not suffering this one alone. Gross."

"You're still here," he reminded me.

"Just until you turn into _that_ ," I told him. "I'm not signing up for that."

"If _that_ happens, Noa, I'm giving you permission to shoot me," he told me with a shake of his head.

"I don't know how your mother puts up with it," I blurted.

"I've been wondering since I was a teenager," Shane confessed. He sighed. "Let's head back to the hotel. You haven't run into Kurt tonight, and I'm really aiming to keep it that way."

"Ugh. I'm never sleeping again," I told him. Shane draped his arm over my shoulders.

"I can think of some stuff we can do in the meantime..." I shot him a look and he raised his eyebrows. I laughed.

"You have a one-track mind. Jesus."

"You're the only one running through it." We broke into a fit of laughter, the two of us walking down the hallway towards the parking lot.


	24. Left Behind

Chapter 24: Left Behind

* * *

I spent the whole night after _SummerSlam_ waiting for the other shoe to drop with Vince, and like clockwork, he didn't disappoint when Monday morning rolled around.

After my run-in with the girls at the beach and Shane's hallway spat with Stacy, Vince called our hotel room before the sun rose to "suggest" that Shane leave me behind at the hotel for _Raw_. Shane was offended by the suggestion; he was rigid with anger, pointing out to his father that Vince would never have asked Hunter to hang back from the business. As upset as Shane was, I understood; after all, I'm not Hunter. I'm a Diva on the injured list. Vince was loud on the other end of the phone, informing Shane that he had been forced to "smooth out" the situation with Stacy. The way he said the phrase made both of us cringe. I watched Shane get out of bed and disappear into the bathroom, but the call very quickly devolved into a shouting match between father and son. Shane was shouting that he didn't care about Human Resources getting involved. I wondered what Stacy's game was, but I knew that Shane and I knew we both had no choice in the situation. We both knew I was going to stay behind, and while I wasn't all that bothered at the idea of staying behind in a hotel with a Jacuzzi, Shane was still angry.

He emerged from the bathroom, his phone clutched tightly in his hand. "It's fine, Shane."

"No. No, it's not. Dad knows it, too." He put his phone on the bed and sat down beside me. "Are you going to be okay without me today?" he asked. "I don't feel right leaving you by yourself."

I brought my knees up to my chest. "Yeah, I'll be fine," I assured him. "I'll find a way to kill time. Between the tub and the room service, I think I'll figure out a way to manage. And, on the bright side, I won't have to play duck and dive around Torrie and Kurt." Shane sighed.

"I guess that's a way to look at it." He reached out and touched my face, his thumb rubbing against my cheek. I felt a small pang of guilt for all the trouble I seemed to be getting into because it seemed to blow up in his face more often than not these days. If he was upset about it, I didn't see anything but love in his eyes. "I'm going to do everything in my power to get out of there early tonight. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"It's okay. I promise I'll be fine." He got up and went to his bag, grabbing his clothing for the day. I turned my head and looked out the window of the hotel. We were on a marina, and there was nothing but water and boats as far as my eyes could see. With the morning fog and the rising sun, it was an incredible view.

"I'm still going to try though. I'd rather be around you than Dad." I couldn't hold back my smile. Once he was dressed, he approached the bed, bringing one knee up on the mattress so he could lean over and kiss me. I couldn't help but jolt a little, one of the many little parting gifts left behind by the attack. I'm doing what I can to work through it, to push through and try to keep myself on track. I know that Shane notices these new little things, but he hasn't said a word about it. When the initial tension slipped away I put my hands on his cheeks and held him there, deepening the kiss. We didn't pull away from each other until it was imperative we took a breath, the two of us gasping for air like we had just gone for a morning sprint. He leaned in so he could lean his forehead against mine.

"You make it so hard for me to leave," he told me with a laugh.

"I do wish you could stay."

"Me, too. You're way better to deal with than Dad. But he wants to meet for breakfast so he can yell at me some more." He gave me a quick kiss before he moved off the bed. "We'll pick up where we left off when I get back."

"Sounds good." He grabbed his navy blazer off the back of the desk chair. He slid it on and grabbed his bag. With one last "I love you", he was out the door. I looked out the window, at the pinkish sky and the world outside. Then I flopped back on the bed and huffed. Me, myself, and my thoughts. I knew it was going to be a long day.

* * *

I jolted awake when I felt my waist encircled with a muscular arm and a body pressed against my back. My eyes flew open and my mouth opened to start screaming, but the soft voice made the sound die in my throat.

"Shh. It's okay, Noa. It's just me."

I rolled over, relieved to see Shane's face. It was dark outside, and the clock on the nightstand beside Shane said it was well after midnight. I felt for him; he'd gotten out even later than he'd wanted to. "You scared the hell out of me," I confessed. Shane rubbed my back soothingly, trying to get my breathing back to normal.

"I'm sorry. I should have known better. I had a feeling this was going to happen. It's just...I know you haven't really been sleeping, and you looked really peaceful. I was hoping I could just get in and not wake you." He kissed my forehead. "I'm sorry – I did it all wrong."

"It's okay. I'm okay," I offered quickly, forcing a smile on my face. The pounding in my chest was so fast and heavy that I thought he could hear it. I reached out and touched his face, brushing my thumb over his cheek. "How did everything go today?"

"It went okay. I managed to avoid Stacy like the Plague tonight. I stayed close to Brisco tonight." I sighed, blowing a strand of hair out of my face. "Hey – it's okay."

"No. No, it's not."

"None of this is your fault, Noa."

"Do you think she's prettier than me?" I blurted. I was horrified immediately after the words left my mouth, ashamed of myself for throwing the thought out into the universe. Since running into them at the beach, I've been thinking about it more and more, but I've been too afraid to ask, too afraid of the answer I could get. Shane looked absolutely shell-shocked by the question.

"No." He said it so fast that I had no doubt his answer was genuine. He held me tighter against him. "It's always been you, Noa. That sounds crazy, but ever since Chris showed me your tape the first time. I just...I saw you and I felt something." He kissed me. "When I saw you on the doorstep at Dad's the day you came to sign your contract, my first thought was the pictures and videos I saw didn't do you justice." I felt myself blush. "So, none of that, okay?"

"Shane..."

"What did you do while I was gone today?"

"Cartoons. Lots of cartoons."

"Well, I'm jealous. What did you watch?"

"I found a _Thirteen Ghosts of Scooby Doo_ marathon on the Cartoon Network. Those were always my favorite. Then I found a retro channel that was playing _Wacky Races_." Shane made a face, and I knew right away that he would have much rather spent his day in pajamas with me reliving his childhood.

"How about I call down to room service before they close and get some ice cream, and you can show me this channel?" he asked with a grin.

"That sounds like a good idea. I think I might be a bit too keyed up to go back to sleep," I confessed.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. It's me," I said, my lips pulling into a tight line.

"Banana split?"

"You know me so well." He kissed my nose and got out of bed to order. I readjusted in bed, moving the pillows so I could lean against them. When he was finished, he sat down beside me on the bed, leaning against the headboard. I sighed. "I watched _Raw_ tonight."

"Oh?"

"Were you planning on telling me about Kurt joining the Alliance tonight?"

"Not tonight, honestly. I didn't want to ruin your night." I sighed. "He was asking about you. If Stephanie wasn't in the room tonight, I probably would have slugged him." He looked over at me, placing his hand over mine. "We can talk about all of this in the morning over breakfast if you want. Tonight, I just want to leave all the stupidity at the arena and just have a night with you." I moved so he could drape his arm over mine and draw me close. He kissed the side of my head. "And watch cartoons."

 _"Spider-Man, Spider-Man, does whatever a spider can..."_

"Oh, man, I've probably seen every last one of these," Shane confessed. I laughed.

"Replace these with the old 1960s Batman, and that's me," I told him. There was a knock on the door, and Shane got up to get the sundaes. I only half-heard Shane talking to the employee at the door, and then he was coming back to the bed with the ice cream.

"Have you ever seen any of these?" he asked, handing me my banana split and a spoon.

"Oh, of course. My dad grew up on these. My favorite superhero cartoon has to be the old _X-Men_ show from the 90s." Shane shot me a look.

"I don't think I've seen those ones."

"Oh, man, they're the best." We sat on the bed, under the covers, eating ice cream and watching cartoons, talking about the things we loved when we were younger. I looked out the window at the darkness, the only light coming from a few of the boats and some lights at the marina. There was still so much craziness around me, but for the night, it was nice to leave everything on the other side of the door.

* * *

 _ **Small note here: I'm so sorry about the delay here - getting back into writing after the last eleven months of my life has been a little difficult, and I am slowly but surely trying to get back into the swing of it. I've been debating posting some one-shots based on this series, with some different POVs with certain events, but I'd like to know if anyone would be interested in reading it.**_


	25. Breakdown

Chapter 25: Breakdown

* * *

"I think I need a vacation."

I said the words out loud to nobody in particular, even though I was lying in bed beside Shane, my head propped up on pillows. It's been a day where wearing my neck brace was becoming too much for me to bear, and a night where my mood and self-esteem was at its absolute lowest. Nothing could raise my spirits, from the New York sunlight in the penthouse to the beautiful sunset that left the sky a brilliant mixture of pink, orange and blue. Shane has been doing everything he can to give me the space I need to work through things, but on this day I feel permanently broken like there's no way to fix what's wrong with me. I know that I may not feel like this when the sun comes up in a few hours, or it could linger for days. But lying beside him, I found myself drowning in a whirlpool of self-pity that I couldn't free myself from.

In a few days, I get to go back to the doctor. He's going to monitor how I've been recovering from the surgery. From there, he might let me ease up on wearing the brace, and he may clear me to do some light training. It's not a whole lot at the moment, but it's something, and I've been pinning every hope I have that it will be my step forward.

Shane sighed and rolled onto his side to watch me. "I know. It sounds crazy. I haven't done anything."

"It doesn't sound crazy at all, Noa," he said with a sigh. "I meant what I said about running away when this Invasion business is over. I meant that. You and I, we'll run to the edge of the world to get away if we have to." It was my turn to sigh. I stared up at the ceiling.

"I don't know if I can hold out until then," I confessed. I felt my nerves begin to shake. "I feel like I'm losing it."

"What do I do here, Noa?" he asked with a deep sigh. He had been quiet for a few moments like he had to think about what he was going to say to me. It never used to be like this. "I don't know what to do here."

"I know, I know. The life we chose. Family obligations. Career obligations. I know." It was hard for me to keep the bitterness out of my voice. I felt red-hot tears beginning to form behind my eyes. I struggled to keep myself in check, but I was sure that he could see I was failing. "I don't know what to do anymore. I just...everything is still moving around me, and I'm here, and I don't know what to do anymore."

"I'm trying, Noa. Things are crazy. I wish I could get away, too."

"I know. I'm not blaming you." I sighed. "But maybe I should go away by myself for a little while once the brace comes off. I don't know how long this Invasion stuff is going to last, and with your dad..."

Shane went silent. I knew that he didn't like my suggestion. Ever since the attack, he doesn't like leaving me out of his sight for long periods of time, so the idea of letting me go on vacation alone was definitely not an attractive option for him. But all the familiar surroundings only seem to be adding to the hard feelings.

"Where are you thinking about going?" he asked.

"I don't know. It won't be for a while. Not until the neck brace comes off." I sighed. "It will get you a break, too. You won't constantly be getting in trouble because of me, or get stuck fighting my battles. You'll actually get to focus on what you need to..."

"Noa, I don't care about any of that. You know that." There was a pause between them. "Right?"

"I don't know," she sighed.

"I know it's hard, but you're in your own head about a lot of this, Noa. I'm behind you every step of the way. You and me against the world, okay?" He reached out to touch my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek.

"You're upset."

"I wish I could be with you when you take this vacation. But I know that you need to worry about yourself right now, and I know that with Stephanie and I co-owning the Alliance, things are really crazy right now." He brushed a strand of hair out of my face. "Have you given any thought to...?"

"I don't think I'm ready for that yet," I confessed. "Maybe after I get back. I don't know."

"Just promise me wherever you go, you keep in touch," he told me. "Let me know that you're safe."

"Of course." I sighed. "It's just a thought. I just kind of feel...pushed out lately."

"Don't worry about Dad, Noa..."

"Shane, this is the most time I've had off since I was fifteen. I know that I'm supposed to relax. I know that I'm not supposed to do anything but sit here, but I can't do that. Because all I do is think. And I see the scar, and I just..." I trailed off and huffed. "I'm going insane. I feel like I am honest to God going insane."

"Then it sounds like you need a vacation," he said. "What time is your doctor's appointment on Wednesday?"

"One-thirty."

"I'll be home by then. I'm going to fly out here right after _SmackDown_ on Tuesday."

"What if things have gone wrong?" I asked.

"You'd know by now, Noa. Nobody knows your body better than you." I knew he was right, but it did little to soothe the chaotic thoughts inside my head. "I wasn't lying, Noa. I told you we'd get through this together. It doesn't matter what happens, okay? Whatever happens, we'll get through it. We've gotten this far. We just keep going." My lips pulled into a tight line, an awful attempt at a smile. He was right, and I knew he was right, but I wished that it did something to make me feel better. The investigation seems to be at a total standstill. Even though I have every suspicion about Kurt, the police are satisfied enough with every explanation given that he's been ruled out as a suspect.

With everything back at square one, sleep has been impossible. I know Shane has a million questions about things, that he wants to talk, but the two of us can't seem to talk to each other about the investigation. It hangs between us in every silent space, behind every word.

"I don't think I can sleep," I confessed. Shane shot me a look. "Don't worry about me. You get some rest. I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"I love you." He reached out and put his hand over mine. I shot him a look.

"I love you, too."

"How about you and I go out for breakfast tomorrow? It's been a while since we've done that, just you and I."

"That sounds lovely." I pulled my robe on and tied the sash around my waist. I left the room without looking back at him, mostly because I wanted to cry. I managed to hold myself together until I got to the living room. I sank down on the sofa, put my head in my hands as best I could, and let the tears flow. I struggled to keep my sobs quiet. I cried until my body hurt until I was a shaking mess on the sofa.

I was startled when I felt a throw blanket placed over my shoulders. Without a word, Shane rounded the sofa and sat down beside me, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me close. I let the dam burst once more, and I cried against him until it felt like the well had run dry. He said nothing; instead, he only rubbed my arms and readjusted himself on the couch, pulling me against him so my head was rested against his chest in a way that made me comfortable. He rubbed my arms and shoulders soothingly while my sobs turned into quiet weeping before sleep finally overtook me.

* * *

 _ **Sorry it's a bit of a filler chapter. Things are going to variate a bit from the original draft, in case people haven't noticed already. Thanks again for everyone's patience.**_


	26. Home Alone

Chapter 26: Home Alone

* * *

Before Shane and I were set to go on the road, Vince called and informed us that it would be a good idea if I stayed back for the foreseeable future. Since I'm still in a neck brace and not competing or a part of the production, and I know in large part due to the problems with Stacy, Torrie, and myself, he "suggested" I hang back for a while. Shane was irate and angry at the idea of me not being on the road with him, but I wasn't at all surprised by the development. I sat, dejected and quiet while Shane paced back and forth, ranting and raving about his father. It didn't matter that Stacy and Torrie were the ones starting problems; I was the one injured. I didn't need to be there, and as far as I knew, this could be Vince's way of testing me, by giving me a very rough initiation into what it's like to get involved with the family.

He went back to the road, and I knew he didn't want to go, but The Alliance was struggling under Steve's leadership. Somewhere along the way, Steve seemed to lose his ever-loving mind, talking to his watch and beating the stuffing out of everyone on his team and on Vince's. I knew there was also a lot of tension on the team with Kurt, and Shane didn't want to leave him alone with Stephanie at any given point. Since Hunter was injured, and I was out, I'm sure he thought that Stephanie was his chance at redemption for everything that's happened.

It was going to be five days before I saw him, and he knew that I wasn't going to leave the house. Being recognized on the street is a little tough these days since I have to field uncomfortable questions about what happened and why I ended up in the neck brace. Some still ask for autographs and pictures and act like nothing happened, which somehow is even more awkward than the questions. Shane went shopping for everything I needed for the next five days while he was gone. He promised to call as much as he could, but I told him to have fun, and to go out with the boys. He's spent so much time looking after me that he hasn't had much time to just go out and be himself.

I'd be lying if I said being alone in the house doesn't make me anxious. I'm always double checking the windows and the doors, making sure that everything is locked tight. Being alone period makes me uneasy. I spoke with my mom for a while, but my parents can't be on the phone with me twenty-four hours a day; eventually, they have lives to live. So when I hung up from my call with them, I couldn't help but feel that sense of dread.

Being by myself in the house, it made me realize just how big the place was, just how quiet it was when Shane wasn't around. I realized that I hated it, but there was nothing I could do about it. He was gone, back to a life where he didn't have to look over my shoulder but had to deal with the dysfunction that's dominated his family for as long as he could remember. The attempted invasion that he's been attempting with Stephanie doesn't seem to be going to plan, but I have the feeling that neither of them really had a plan, that they only wanted to stick it to their father. Everything else seems to be secondary. As awful as it sounds, I know that I was kind of dealt a lucky hand to be out during all of this, avoiding the glares from my colleagues despite my loyalty to the WWF. It's been a war in every sense of the word, with scars and hurt feelings that are going to follow a lot of people for years.

I sat on the couch in silence, as the sun disappeared behind the horizon. It was like I blinked, and it was dark. Then I got up to turn on every light in the house. With nobody around, it was easy to let the fear and anxiety take hold. It didn't matter that I wasn't even on the ground floor. It was just a feeling in my bones that I couldn't shake.

He doesn't have to say it, but I know that Shane isn't happy that I am planning on going on a vacation by myself. He'd deny it if I confronted him about it, but I just get the feeling that he doesn't like it. But since I've been effectively banished from my job, and I'm just stuck at home, it seems like as good a time as any to take my first real vacation since I was a teenager. The only thing I know is I'm leaving American soil for a while. I don't know if it will make me feel any safer, but it's something.

I was startled when the phone rang. When I checked the caller ID, the tightness in my chest eased up when I saw it was Trish calling. "Hey."

"Hey, girl. How's the neck doing?"

"Still there. How's the ankle?"

"Still there." I had to laugh. "What are you up to?"

"Not a whole lot. Did Shane tell you to call me?"

"I did get a text message about twenty minutes ago," she confessed. "He said he'd call later on in the night, but he wanted to make sure you're okay. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I told her, but the words sounded weak. If Trish noticed that, I was thankful that she didn't call me to the carpet about it. "Just a little anxious. I guess I never really realized just how big this place is when it's just me here."

"All the more reason for you and Shane to start making babies," Trish told me.

"Oh my God. You really didn't just say that." I couldn't help but laugh.

"It would solve the silence problem," she pointed out.

"This is your nightly reminder that you are the absolute worst," I told her. This time it was Trish's turn to laugh.

"You still love me, though."

"I heard through the grapevine that you're planning a little vacation..." Trish said.

"Shane told you?"

"No. I kind of overheard Stephanie on the phone at the last _Excess_ taping we did. She didn't tell me anything, but she said it was your right to take one. No idea who she was talking to, and I really didn't want to ask." I didn't say anything. "So...where are you going?"

"I don't know yet. I don't even know when. It'll be whenever the doc says I can take this stupid brace off."

"I hear Bora Bora is nice this time of the year."

"I'll have to look that up."

"You were planning on leaving the country, right? What's the parameter here?"

"I'm leaving the country. It might be all I can do to try and restore some of my sanity."

"Somewhere tropical while it's getting colder here might be the best game plan, too, but just know that I'm going to be super jealous of you while you're gone." I had to laugh.

"There's nothing about me to be jealous of," I told her honestly.

"Oh, get out of here with that." Trish sighed. "You know you don't have to lie to me, right?"

"I know. I promise I'm okay."

"Noa..."

"It's fine...it's just...Shane wanted to go away whenever this Invasion stuff wrapped, but I feel like it's going to go forever, and I'm just...I'm going crazy. The investigation is at a standstill, Vince won't let me back on the road because Stacy has him wrapped around her finger, and this neck brace is just annoying me like crazy."

"How long until it comes off?"

"Hopefully in the next week or two. From there, I am going to start looking for a place to go. I think Shane is upset I'm going by myself, but he's not saying anything to me about it."

"Why would he be upset? Because you guys were going to run away together?"

"Yeah."

"Noa, I'm sure he thinks it sucks. And I'm sure he wishes that it was the two of you running away together. But he's a McMahon, and he knows that the business has to come first for him. It's nothing against you – it's just, that is literally their whole livelihood. All four of them. I don't think he's upset at you. I just think he wishes he could go with."

"I wish he was coming with me. But I don't know how long I can wait to get out of here and regroup." I put my feet up on the edge of the coffee table, my knees bent. "I can't even throw myself into work to get through this. Like, I have to do something."

"I know that. You know that, and he knows that. Maybe he just feels guilty..." Trish trailed off. I knew what she was getting at, and I couldn't help but sigh. "Sorry."

"No. I'm sure that's what it is. I'm sure that's why he's put his entire personal life on hold to look after me."

"No. He did that because he's in love with you, stupid."

I blinked. "Thanks, Trish. I can always count on you to be blunt."

"He is! You can't possibly doubt that."

"I don't, I guess. It's just..."

"It's just what? Hmm?"

"It just feels like things have changed."

"Well, they have. I know that's not the answer you want to hear, but it's true. But it's up to you guys what you do from here. I think Shane's made it pretty clear what he is going to do."

"Some days I just wish he wouldn't."

"Noa..."

"It's a lot on him. I know I'm not the same. And I can only imagine the things Vince says to him in private. He's put so much on hold for me, and maybe I'm just ungrateful. I don't know. I don't know what's wrong with me anymore, Trish." I leaned back against the couch. "Some days I guess I just wish he would wake up and figure out there's someone better than me out there, someone without all of this baggage. And I can't figure out why it's not happening."

"Because he loves you! Do I need to take out an ad in the paper or something?"

"Sorry." I sighed. "I don't know what's wrong with me these days."

"Have you looked into seeing anyone?"

"Not yet. Not because I don't want to...it's just...I don't feel ready yet. Maybe when I get back." I looked out into the darkness. "I'm going to let you go, Trish. I'm going to try and get some sleep."

"Okay. If you need anything, call me, okay?"

"I will."

"Keep your head up, girly. I know it's hard some days, but you're doing great." We said our goodbyes and I hung up. I picked up the phone and went up to take a bubble bath. I double checked all the doors and windows once more before I went up the stairs. Whatever he was doing, I hoped Shane was having fun. One of us had to be.


	27. Bad Goodbyes

Chapter 27: Bad Goodbyes

* * *

As crushed as I was that the doctor wasn't clearing me to do any kind of in-ring or weight training at the moment, the fact that I could stop wearing my neck brace so much was more than enough to make me feel happier than I've been since the attack. Sitting alone in the doctor's office receiving the news, though, I couldn't help but wish that Shane was beside me for it. He told me he wanted to be there, but the drama between Kurt, Steve, and Stephanie kept him on the road for a bit longer than he wanted to be, he said. Shane was so apologetic on the phone, and I told him it was okay, but it hurt me a lot more than I thought it would. Lately, it feels like I'm clearing every hurdle on my own, that whatever partnership we had is quickly splintering into an everyone for themselves sort of deal. I wish I knew how to fix it, but I still feel as helpless as ever.

The Alliance is taking up every second of time he has these days. Ever since Kurt joined, there's been some kind of crisis or another with him. He's not playing well with others. Steve's bent out of shape. Shane's worried about Stephanie. I'm not even involved in all of this, and I'm exhausted by all of it. The war over the Alliance and the WWF is beginning to get out of hand, spilling even more into the family than it already has. Now, Shane and Stephanie are at war with Linda, too, which is so strange to me. It was only six months ago that Shane was hitting his father with garbage cans to defend his mother's honor; now, he's more than okay with Stephanie slapping her around. I tried to press the issue with him, but he didn't want to talk about it. He told me to just enjoy my time off as if I could enjoy the anxiety and fear that comes with being in the house by myself ninety-five percent of the time.

After I got the news about my brace, I went to the travel agency and booked myself a ticket to Fiji for vacation. Trish pitched Bora Bora, but she went and did more research for me. She sent Shane home with a bunch of brochures that he didn't hand off to me. I found them cleaning up while he was on the road, another hint that he's not really happy about the idea that I'm going away without him. After I booked my flight, I treated myself to Magnolia cupcakes and iced coffee. I thought about mentioning the trip to Shane, but he came back from the road irritated and just wanting some time alone to sit in silence and not hear people in his ear all the time.

It was almost the end of October when he came in from his workout, dressed in black basketball shorts and a long grey shirt. As summer turned into fall, it was hard not feeling like the two of us were drifting apart. We weren't sleeping in the same room most nights; he often crashed out in his office, or I ended up awake all night doing small projects around the house. Some weeks he didn't even come home. I knew better than to complain; it's the life I chose, the life he was born into. But as the investigation skidded to a stop and became cold, it felt like he wasn't there to lean on.

I was packing when he walked into the room. I was surprised to see him; he knew that he was going to have to wrestle at _Survivor Series_ , so he was trying to get himself into the best ring shape possible. The stakes for the match were high; if Vince lost, control of the company reverted to Shane, Stephanie, and the Alliance. At this point, I just wanted it to be finished. I wanted Shane back. I wanted their family back.

He came to a stop on his side of the bed and put his hand on his hips. I looked up, dropping a black T-shirt into the suitcase. There wasn't anger in his eyes, but I definitely felt like there was a good chance the two of us were going to have an argument, something we'd been doing a little bit too much of lately. "Hey."

"You bought a one-way ticket." It wasn't a question. He studied me, quiet for a few moments. "Are you going to come back? Is there something I need to know?"

"Of course I'm coming back," I told him, dropping a pair of jean shorts into the suitcase. I didn't look into his eyes; instead, I kept my gaze on the suitcase that was quickly getting full. "I just...I don't know when."

"You couldn't tell me this?" he asked incredulously. I looked at him, just as wide-eyed and offended.

"You've been so busy with all of this Alliance stuff, and you've been making it pretty clear that you don't want to hear anything about _this_ , so no. I didn't want to bother you with it." I don't know why I found myself becoming so defensive, but my nerves were beginning to sing.

"Noa..."

"It's fine, Shane. You're busy. The Alliance is crazy, and Stephanie's working in close proximity with Kurt while Hunter's out hurt, and you have to wrestle, and it's just this big hurricane of bullshit. You're not even going to notice I'm gone because you're going to be so busy having to deal with everything. And I'll be away, away from the business, hopefully away from the fear and the anxiety and everything _I've_ been dealing with." I went into my nightstand and got the book I've been reading. "It's better this way. You won't have to worry about me being home alone all the time, and you can just focus on the business."

"You're trying to divert me here, Noa," he accused. "You bought a one-way ticket to Fiji, and you didn't say a word to me about it. Was I just going to come home from the road and find you gone or something? Like, how was this supposed to work out? How was it worked out inside your head?"

"I told you when I booked it. The fact that you didn't hear it tells me everything I need to know about where your head is at," I said with a shake of my head.

"There you go again. Like it's my fault somehow that you're planning on running off without leaving me any information. Like it's somehow my fault that you quit talking to me about anything months ago." Shane sat down on the bed. He sighed. "I'm not mad you're going, Rinoa. Far from it. But you've got to give me something here."

"I don't really have anything to give. I told you that I'm going away for a while to get myself back together." I felt the red-hot tears burning behind my eyes, but I didn't want to cry. He's seen me do it so much over the last two months, and I'm so tired of crying. "It's the perfect time for me to do it. I'm hurt, and your dad doesn't want me anywhere near the company at the moment. You're knee-deep in things. Everyone around me is knee-deep in something and it's just me. It's the perfect time for me to go."

"You didn't tell me you're leaving tonight."

"I did. You didn't hear me."

"That's been your excuse for everything lately."

"Excuse...?" I huffed out the wave of anger that hit me, and I shut my suitcase. "I'm not doing this, Shane."

"Doing what?" He held his arms out. "Am I missing something here? You were going to just take off."

"You're not hearing me. You haven't been hearing me for a while." The words stung Shane, and I felt awful that they hurt him. I could see it in his eyes; he can't hide anything because of them. I shut my suitcase and zipped it up. "And I don't know. Maybe things will be better if I come back after _Survivor Series_ , or maybe they won't. But for my sake, if I can't be around my dream job or my boyfriend, or my friends, then I think I just need to leave everything for a while and sort myself out."

"What's that supposed to mean, if things aren't better...?"

"I don't know, Shane. I don't know anything anymore."

"Noa, please don't talk like this." He sat down on the bed, rubbing his face with his hands. "Let me drive you to the airport. We can talk."

"It's fine. I didn't think you were going to be home in time, so I set up a cab already. It should be here quick."

"So this is it? You were really just going to leave without saying goodbye?"

"If I had to. I told you I was leaving this morning." I picked up my suitcase.

"Noa..."

"I should go. Good luck at _Survivor Series_. I hope it goes the way you want." I rounded the bed and walked out of the room quickly, trying my best not to sniffle on the way out. Halfway down the stairs, I stopped and looked back. There was a sharp pain in my chest when I realized that Shane wasn't coming after me. I grabbed my purse and my ticket on the way out and left. It's not the way I wanted to say goodbye before the trip, and I know that the cards are going to fall where they do. I looked out the window of the cab and struggled not to cry over the events of the last two months, how everything finally managed to drive a crack between the two of us. I don't know what's going to happen in the next hour, the next day, week, or month, but I had to believe that after everything I've been through, something had to give. There had to be something at the end of the storm for me.


	28. Rinoa Fielder and the Infinite Sadness

_Chapter 28: Rinoa Fielder and the Infinite Sadness_

* * *

After I left Shane, I spent the entire time I traveled struggling to stay composed. From the time I got into the cab, to the time my plane landed at the Nadi International Airport, I must have let a hundred tears slip through, all of them blocked behind my sunglasses. My cell phone was silent for the entire trip. Part of me was surprised by it; I really thought Shane would try and call at some point. But there was another side that didn't surprise me because I know how stubborn he can be. I had wounded him, and I hadn't meant to. I knew there were consequences for what I've done.

The villa I booked was on Matamanoa Island, about twenty miles away from the airport. It's a beautiful area, the sand white, the palm trees tall, and the water azure. Staring out of the window my cab, I couldn't help but think about a year ago when I had done the same thing on the way to Vince McMahon's home. I had been so different then. Things had been a bit simpler then. As I watched the scenery pass, I struggled to stay composed as I realized that those days were long gone, that the girl I used to be was gone with it. I thought about the early days with Shane, how things had been so precarious when we had to keep a secret, but somehow it seemed easier. Ever since our hand was forced, it feels like things have been rocky. I didn't realize that things would become so complicated and strange, and maybe that's because I've been a bit naive.

When I got off the plane, I bit the bullet and called Shane to tell him that I landed safely, but he didn't answer. I ended up having to leave a message on his answering machine. There was a little voice in the back of my head telling me that he was ignoring me, that I had blown any real shot to be happy with him because of how fucked up I am. The little voice told me that I was going home a single woman, that my career was going to crumble because I couldn't take Chris's advice to heart. It was a startling thought, that I couldn't turn to Chris about any of this; even though he says he wouldn't, I know he would gloat and say "I told you so". He wouldn't be able to help himself; it's part of his genetic makeup.

The villa I reserved was even more beautiful than the pictures led me to believe. It wasn't the biggest place, but it was just perfect for me, bursting with natural light and well-decorated in bright colors and white walls. I was surprised to discover that there was no TV inside the villa, but I was fine with that. If I couldn't be backstage or in the ring, I had to find a way to separate myself from the business for a little while. I realized that I needed to step away from the McMahon civil war, at the Alliance vs. WWF. Even away from the business, with everything that's happened, I realized that it was still taking an enormous toll on my well-being.

On the front porch there was a table and two chairs, and a hot tub that I could soak in while watching the sunset over the beach. The view from the French doors was spectacular; opening the door in the morning to hear the waves crashing was a pleasant change from the honking horns and loud chatter of New York City. It's not that I hate living in New York, but lately, I've found that I have come to enjoy the silence.

I put my suitcase down at the foot of the bed and sat down on the mattress. It was like a little bachelor apartment in villa form; I could roll out of bed and end up in the kitchen. Placing my purse beside me on the bed, I lay back on the mattress, across the bed horizontal, and just stared up at the ceiling. Getting away is nice, but I knew that something was missing, and he was six-foot-two and back in New York buried underneath the family business. I sighed, and the next time I opened my eyes, the room was illuminated orange by the sunset. It took me a moment to realize that I woke up because my phone was going off. I ended up scrambling for it, disappointed to find it wasn't Shane's number staring back at me. It was Trish. With a sigh, I answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Girl, you were supposed to let me know that you made it there safe! What the fuck?" My lips pulled into a tight line while I readjusted myself on the bed so I could sit cross-legged and lean against the headboard.

"Sorry, Trish. I ended up falling asleep almost as soon as I got here," I said with a sigh. "It was a long trip."

"I can imagine it was, but how is the scenery?"

"Like a dream," I answered. "Like a beautiful dream."

"Then why don't you sound happy?"

"Oh, Jesus."

"Front all you want, Rinoa, but you can't lie to your girl. I know you too well at this point. What's going on?"

I sighed and closed my eyes. "I ruined everything, Trish. I have no idea what I'm coming back to."

"When are you coming back?"

"I don't know. I don't know, and I just...I've ruined everything." The dam finally burst and I found myself sobbing. I can only imagine what Trish must have been thinking on the other side of the phone, but I was struck by how calm she sounded when she spoke.

"You did not ruin everything. What's going on?"

"Shane was supposed to be here, and he's not, and he hates me now, and I just made a mess, and I don't even..." I was babbling, and I can only imagine how incoherent it sounded. I heard Trish making a noise on the other end of the phone.

"Okay, Noa, honey, if we're going to have this talk, I'm going to need you to calm down."

I sucked in a deep breath and struggled to compose myself. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. What's going on? Give me the dirt. I need something to do since I'm waiting for my car to get fixed." I couldn't help but laugh at the idea of Trish giving life advice sitting in an auto repair shop back in Canada.

"I just needed to get away."

"Understandable, Noa. You've been through so much."

"The investigation has stalled."

"I'm so sorry, Noa."

"Shane's so knee-deep in everything with the Alliance, and keeping Kurt and Stephanie separated, and warring with his father that he's not really seeing me these days. Even when we're at home."

"So you decided to take this solo vacation."

"I needed to get away. It's never good news, and I'm alone all the time, and I've been so freaked out. I just wanted to go somewhere and piece myself back together. And he said we could run away together, but I didn't know how long this was going to take the family, and I just...I couldn't wait." I wiped at my eye with the back of my hand. "And he's upset at me, and...I just...I think this is it, Trish. And I'm so stupid. I'm so stupid for thinking this could have ever worked."

"What, you and Shane?"

"Chris warned me. Chyna warned me. Everyone warned me, and I didn't listen." The tears started again, and I began to hiccup from the sobs I was struggling to hold back. "I've messed everything up, and I don't know how to fix it."

"Jesus Christ, Noa."

"I...I didn't get a return ticket. I didn't know how long I wanted to stay, and I didn't think he would miss me. He's been so busy, and it's like I don't exist anymore. And he saw and he freaked, and we had this fight, and he was so upset with me, and he's not returning any of my calls, Trish. I fucked all of this up. I can't fix this."

"Sweetie, it's probably not as serious as you think it is. He has been really busy with this Alliance stuff. We all are. It's like act two with this stupid war." Freshly cleared from her ankle injury, Trish was set to compete for the reactivated Women's Championship at _Survivor Series_ in a Six Pack Challenge against Ivory, Mighty Molly, Jazz, Lita, and Jackie. Trish was considered the underdog going into this match since she's the least experienced of the six women involved. "He'll call you when he gets your message. I'm sure of it. This is Shane we're talking about."

"He's so upset at me, Trish."

"Cooler heads will prevail here. He's worried about you, and he's trying to do what he thinks is the right thing here. I know for a fact he wishes he was there with you, and, Noa, you're crazy if you think he doesn't notice you're gone."

"I don't know about that, Trish. I've changed. He doesn't have to say it, but we both know it."

"You're talking like this was some kind of blow-out fight, but it doesn't sound like it was, Noa."

"I'm just confused, Trish."

"No, you're scared. It's okay to be scared, Noa. You've been through a lot. And I know it's easy when you're so deep in the thick of everything to see the big picture, but he's head over heels for you, Noa. And this has been terrifying for him, too. He cares about you so much, and I know he wants to help, but I don't think he knows how."

"I don't know how he can," I cried. I huffed. "I'm sorry, Trish."

"It's okay."

"I should go. Your car is going to be ready soon, and I think I want to go and watch the sunset."

"Ooh, try to get some pictures of that. You get a billion pictures while you are there. I'm living this vacation vicariously through you, so don't let me down." I couldn't help but laugh at that. "Promise me."

"I promise, okay? Jeez."

"I'll call you tomorrow night, okay? Take a deep breath. Everything is going to go the way it goes. Things happen beyond your control sometimes, but things will work out in the end, okay?"

"If you say so."

"You need to say so." I huffed.

"Everything's going to be fine."

"Say it until you believe it. Keep your head up. Love you, Noa."

"Love you, too, Trish." We said our goodbyes and hung up. I wiped at the tears that stained my cheeks. I got off the bed and grabbed my camera from my purse to get some pictures of the view from my front door. I leaned against the doorway and took photos of the beach. Looking out over the water, I sighed. It was only an ocean between us, but we may as well be worlds apart.

Setting my camera down on the sideboard, I walked outside and sat down on the front step, watching the orange sky fade to dark blue. I watched with my head on my hands. Turning my head, I saw a couple sitting at the table, laughing and talking and drinking. A pang of bitterness and depression hit me square in the chest. I got up and went back into the cabin, promising myself over and over again that tomorrow would be better.


	29. Surprise!

Chapter 29: Surprise!

* * *

There was an initial swell of panic when I woke up the next morning and realized I wasn't in New York with Shane. It was a few moments before I remembered the day before, all the travel and crying and the phone call with Trish, who was probably going to have the lab-coats waiting for me when I get home to lock me away. I couldn't help but feel embarrassed thinking about the phone call with Trish, and I hoped to God she'd keep quiet about everything. She's been great so far, but I'm so nervous about everything, it only stands to reason that Trish wouldn't be exempt from my suspicions. The last thing I want is Torrie and Stacy finding out about any of this. This business has a serious inability to keep secrets sometimes.

I took my coffee out on the patio, sitting down at the table to look out at the beach. It seemed like a beautiful day to take in the sights and maybe sneak in a little bit of scuba diving. I'm used to living out of a suitcase, always on the move, but it's so rare I get to stop, step back, and take in the sights around me. Sipping my coffee and taking in the beautiful view in front of me, I vowed to myself that I would start to enjoy the little things more if my career wasn't over.

The scar on my neck isn't huge, but I notice it every time I look in the mirror. It's still kind of fresh, the skin still elevated. I've been rubbing vitamin E on it in hopes to make it go down, but the reality is that the scar is going to be another unwanted souvenir from the attack. The doctor said that everything is going according to schedule, but he's being coy when it comes to the idea of me getting back inside the ring and resuming my career. As much as I don't want to think of these things on vacation, every time I look in the mirror to brush my teeth, do my makeup, or fix my hair, it's going to be there.

After my coffee was finished, I went back inside the villa to get dressed for the day. Even with all the sleep I got, I found I was still exhausted. I threw on the first bikini I could find, black with a rhinestone trim, and then threw on a pair of jean shorts and a white tank top over it. I didn't even bother brushing my hair; instead, I threw it back in a high ponytail that I pushed through the back of a New York Yankees baseball cap. There was a good chance I was going to end up in the water today, so I left my phone and my handbag behind. I quickly put some sunscreen on and gathered some money and my keys before I left the villa. I hoped to keep myself so busy that I wouldn't think of home at all.

I spent the day learning how to husk and crack coconuts, learning how to weave baskets, hiking, and canoeing, but it was impossible for me to completely ignore everything across the ocean. I wondered what Shane was doing, and if he had cooled down. I hoped to go back to the villa and find that he had returned my call. Then we could talk...well, he could talk, and I could cry and sob and apologize for being such a fucking mess and a basket case. I could almost envision the entire phone call while I worked on my basket. A few people recognized me at each activity, and I signed autographs, took pictures and dodged questions about what happened and how bad my injuries are. They winced at the scar on my neck, and I assured them that I was all right, that I would be back and good as new in no time, even though I didn't really believe it. There were a lot of handshakes and hugs and before I knew it, the sun was going down and I needed to get back to the villa to get changed for dinner.

It had been a beautiful day, but nothing I saw compared to the brilliant sunset while I walked along the beach on the way back. I saw people paddling on their canoes; some of them were coming back to the dock to get ready for the big dinner in the courtyard. The sky was such a bright orange, and it reflected off the water. It was incredible.

Walking up the grass, I looked up at my villa and stopped in my tracks.

 _Shane_ was sitting on the steps of the villa, a single bag to his left. I'll never forget it. He looked bored and exhausted, his head on his hands. It almost looked like he was dozing off. He was dressed in jeans and a white Henley shirt, a far cry from the buttoned-up corporate fashion he usually adheres to. I had to blink because I thought I was imagining things. I even rubbed my eyes.

I walked towards him. He got up, leaving his bag on the porch as he came down the steps. We met on the grass. My eyes were already watering, threatening to spill over. "I...I wasn't sure..." he started, but fell silent when I threw my arms around him and hugged him, openly sobbing like a lunatic. I didn't care if anyone else saw me making a scene. He hugged me back just as tightly, stroking my hair and trying his best once again to soothe me.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry..." I kept repeating it over and over again.

"I'm sorry, too," Shane told me softly. He didn't even care that I was soaked from canoeing. I pulled back, sniffling.

"You probably want to put your bag inside. Come on." I walked past him. I didn't want to have a giant talk with him out in the open, where people who knew who we were could see. He stood to the side while I opened up the room and then it was my turn to step to the side so he could walk in. I shut the door behind us. He was already halfway to the bed, putting his bag down next to my suitcase.

"This place is gorgeous," he commented.

"What on Earth are you doing here?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning against the wall. It was a nineteen-hour flight for me from JFK, so I knew that he had to have had the same travel time. "You have _Survivor Series_ coming up with Stephanie, and you're on the team, and how did you even...?"

"Noa, I couldn't not be here right now, and we both know it." He sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked down at his hands. He was restless; I could see it in the way his left leg moved. "I'm sorry, Noa. I'm so fucking sorry. I saw the one-way ticket with all the travel information on the counter...and with the way you've been talking lately, I freaked. I didn't handle _anything_ well _at all_. I'm sorry. I thought you were leaving for good, and I got a little hot because it felt like you weren't giving me an option here. And maybe you did tell me, and maybe I have been under all of this Alliance vs. WWF nonsense, but Noa...I meant every word I said at the hospital. I'm always here." He shook his head. "If this doesn't prove it... I mean, I flew all night. I've been waiting here for hours. And I'd do this every time for you, Noa. And I know you'd do it for me, too."

I blinked and shook my head. "But _Survivor Series_..."

"What about it? It's on the eighteenth. Halloween is tomorrow." He shot me a smile. "I told Stephanie to cover for me for a few days, that I had some things to take care of. She gets it, so she's holding down the fort." He looked past me, out the French doors. "Unfortunately, I have to be back in time for _Raw_ on Monday..."

"That's fine...my week comes up on Wednesday, and I was going to come home," I confessed. "I mean if I had a home to go back to..."

"Of course you do. I got a little hot, you got a little defensive, and it's okay. This has been such a fucking year. I wouldn't ever..."

"You were so mad at me..."

"It doesn't mean I would want to leave you, Noa." He sighed. "It sucks without you on the road. It sucked coming here without you. I don't ever want to be without you. Ever."

"You didn't answer my call."

"I was in the air, and then I didn't want to call back and give away everything. I had so much to do before I left, but I got here, and I did call you when I landed, but you didn't answer your phone."

"I left it here because I was canoeing today." He nodded.

"We're going to have to do that tomorrow." I nodded. He got off the bed and approached. He touched my face, rubbing his thumb along my cheek, wiping my tears away. "Please don't cry. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry."

"I've messed up..."

"...Absolutely nothing." He shook his head. "I should have just told Stephanie to cover me in the first place when you said you wanted to go. It isn't like she didn't drop everything and go off with Hunter. I should have done that, and we could have avoided all of this." I hugged him. "I'm sorry, Noa. I'm so sorry. I love you."

I tried to speak, but I cried a little bit more. "I didn't come alone," he whispered. I pulled away from him, confused.

"What do you mean, you didn't come alone?"

"It's why I didn't get here sooner. I had to work out some stuff for the weekend with Steph and I had to do a bit of searching around the house. Turns out I'm a bit disorganized." He reached into the pocket of his jeans. "I'm not good at this at all, Noa, and I had this all worked out on my mind on the plane, and I worked out everything I was going to say and everything I was going to do, and it all flew out the window." I looked down at his hand.

I saw a small navy box.

I looked at him, surprised. "Am I reading this wrong, or is that what I think it is?"

He took a step away from me and got down on a knee. My eyes bulged. "Shane..."

"I know you probably think this isn't the right time, that I'm being impulsive and dramatic, but I have to do this. Because there is no me without you. I don't really know how I've gotten this far without you. And I know you've been through a lot, and I know you have things to work through still, but I want you to know that I'm here for all of it. I just...let's get married, Rinoa. What do you say?"

He opened the box. It was a beautiful ring, and it looked like it had been freshly cleaned. It was a modest looking ring, but the gold shone and so did the diamond. "That looks antique..."

"It is. It belonged to my grandmother," he confessed. He looked down at the ring and sighed. He stood.

"Shane..."

"I've been waiting to do this for a while now," he confessed. "We don't have to get married right away, but I don't want anyone else but you, and I..."

I burst into tears. Again. "I...yes. Of course." I placed both hands on his face and kissed him urgently. It was a move that startled us both; I haven't initiated a lot of affection with him since I got out of the hospital, but I couldn't stop myself. When I pulled back, Shane pulled the ring out and threw the box on the bed. Both our hands were shaking as he slid the ring onto my finger. He pulled me close, into a tight hug.

"I'm sorry, Noa. For everything," he whispered, giving me a kiss on the forehead. "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to."

"It's okay," I whispered. "I'm sorry, too. I'm..."

"Let's not worry about the rest of this tonight, okay? I'm here for a few days. We have plenty of time to talk over coffee in the mornings, or while we're hiking. Tonight, I just want to spend time with you."

"Sounds good. I was just getting ready to go to dinner."

"That sounds great. The food on the plane was awful." I couldn't help but smirk. We linked arms and left together. I couldn't stop staring at the ring. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to look at the cards Hunter gave me when I got home.


End file.
